Essential Fairy Tales
by Vouivre
Summary: Late one night Vala sneaks from her bedroom. A simple get together in the Field seemed innocent enough, but how could she know it would change her life entirely?
1. I'm Just A Kid

PRELUDE

"What have you got?" the eleven year old asked. 

"Now that is a secret," her father replied.

"Aww…" she pouted. 

Her father smiled softly, and held a finger up to her lips in a hush. He glanced suspiciously over his shoulder at the cracked door, and moved closer to his daughter. "You must not speak of this to anyone." She nodded enthusiastically, and he pulled a small green box from his cloak. "Many years ago I had wandered into a magical garden filled with tall, wild trees and vines. I was turning to leave the garden when I heard a soft weeping… I followed it and it led me to a beautiful, young girl. She told me she was lost and couldn't find her way out. I took her hand and care-" 

"Aw, daddy…" she softly hit him, "I hate these kind of stories."

"I'm almost done," he smiled.

"This sounds like another one of your romance, Fairy Princess stories."

Jack frowned, and changed the ending of his story. "Maybe this isn't another 'Fairy Princess' story.'" She looked at him skeptically, but he went on, "As I was saying, I took her hand and carefully led her from the garden. Then, just as I turned to kiss her on the cheek-"

"She turned into a Fairy Princess?" 

"No, she slapped me," he answered, grinning.

The girl giggled and nudged him, "Then what?"

He opened the small, green box and replied, "She gave me this."

The girl's eyes widened in awe, "What's that?"

He held up the necklace; it was a milky blue orb stranded on a silver chain. "She said to me, 'Whenever you're alone or afraid, hold this and turn to the sky. You are in the favor of the Faes, and they will always protect you.'"

"It reminds me of the moon," she whispered.

He opened the clasp of the necklace, and placed it around her neck, gingerly reclasping it. "Whenever you're alone or afraid, hold this and turn to the sky. I will always be there to protect you… but now it's time for bed."

She gently touched the pendant, and looked back at him with wide eyes, "Can't I hear another story?"

"I thought you hated my Fairy Princess stories?" he winked.

"Fine," she pouted, and lied back onto her pillow. He pulled the sheets up to her neck, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"Goodnight, Va-"

"Leave me alone!" the slam of a door, "I hate you!" Vevila's voice ripped through Jack's memory; it seemed so long ago when she was his sweet, little princess. It had been years since he had tucked her in. She was a teenager now, and five years had suddenly become a decade. 

"Teenagers," his wife huffed.

He tore his eyes from the fire he was gently churning his thoughts in and turned to his wife, "What's wrong, Virginia?"

She dropped down on the couch next to him, and slouched in weariness. "Vevila wants to go out with some friends, but I told her not to leave after dark. She doesn't understand, Jack." A thick tear rolled down her cheek as she sighed, "It's dangerous times… I only want to protect her."

Jack was watching his wife in concern, and slowly wrapped his arms around her protectively. "Don't cry, sweetheart… she just doesn't understand. She's not a child anymore, she's an independent teenager… she doesn't want us telling her how to live anymore."

"But she's my child," Virginia wept.

Jack pulled her closer, "She's my child too… but she also has my independence and my daring personality. She sees life as a story book, and there's always a happy ending… but when there isn't, she doesn't accept it or believe it."

"That's why we disagree so… I'm always the one to prove her wrong. Life isn't about living in the clouds, and I'm not always the villain. Horrible things are happening, Jack… more and more families are killed, children are disappearing… nobody is safe, it's dangerous times. I can't just let her wander out of this house, thinking I will never see her ever again. I love her, Jack… more than life itself. Why doesn't she understand that?" She looked up into her husbands deep brown eyes, "Why doesn't she love me like she loves you?"

Her husband sighed and pulled her close for reassurance, "These dark times will pass…" He slowly let go of his wife, and carefully stood up. He squeezed her hand and said, "I'll talk to her."

~+~+~+~+~

I'm Just a Kid

__

I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare   
I'm just a kid, I know that it's not fair   
Nobody cares, cause I'm alone and the world is   
having more fun than me   


Jack knocked on his daughter's bedroom door. He touched the chips on the wooden frame and smiled. Each chip symbolized a year of Vevila's life. "To think she used to be so small… why do they ever have to grow up?" he whispered to himself. He heard Vevila's voice close to the door; "I thought I told you-" she began in irritation, but cut herself short. 

"Vala?"

"What do you want?" She growled, hiding her shock; she hadn't expected to see her dad.

His eyes caught a glint near her collarbone, and he noticed a silver chain around her neck. "I see you still wear it," he commented softly.

Vevila's eyes dropped, "Do you want something?" Jack stepped past his daughter and into her room. He looked the room over and realized things had changed drastically. No longer did she keep a dollhouse in the corner, or a pile of stuffed animals on her bed. The pale pink walls and bedspread no longer existed, nor did the play makeup or fake perfume. Awkwardly, He sat down on the black comforter spread across her cluttered bed, but Vevila stood with her arms crossed.

His gaze bore into her eyes, "You've upset your mother… she doesn't think you love her anymore."

"I don't," she grumbled. 

"It hurts her to have you push her away."

Vevila sighed and rolled her eyes while taking a seat next to him. "It's all the little things, dad… Look, she can't even come up here herself. How can I respect someone so timid?"

"Would you have given her a chance?" he countered.

"No, but I would think more of her," she admitted.

"Or hate her for speaking her mind."

"Do I hate you for speaking your mind?" Vevila challenged, her eyes flickering to her dad. 

He sighed sharply and continued, "She's not like us, Vala… she can't always stand up for herself or be as independent. She's entirely different from us, but I love her for that. I accept that part of her, can't you?"

"It's just so hard…" she complained.

"How? She constantly shows love for you, she would give her life for you… she loves you endlessly, even when you scorn and criticize her."

"I don't feel like talking about it," she grumbled. 

Jack glanced at the blue sphere around her neck, and back to her eyes. She had her father's eyes, deep brown with tints and shades of cinnamon and gold. "We're always here to protect you." He stood up, and quietly left her room. 

She sat on her bed, and as the door was closed she whispered, "She was never there…"

~+~+~+~

"I thought you couldn't come out tonight," Geneva greeted in amazement. 

"I snuck out," she answered.

"Ooh… your parents are gonna kill you," Geneva teased, but before Vala could retort she change the subject, "Guess who's here?"

"Saxon?" Vala whispered in excitement.

"Even better…" she grinned. "Bill Weasley."

Vala's shoulders sank, "Oh. What's he doing here?" she asked, losing interest. 

Geneva slapped her arm, "Be nice… he's a sweet guy, and besides… he likes you."

"Unlike some people I don't date every guy who's remotely interested. Besides, that guy's odd." It wasn't so much that he was odd as that he wasn't Vala's type. Bill, though Head Boy, had a punk twist to him. Vala simply wasn't interested. 

"I don't date every guy who likes me," Geneva huffed. "Give him a chance. You haven't seen him since before school let out."

"That was only a week ago, and I'm dating Saxon," Vala reminded.

"So? Bill's cuter!"

"Then why don't you date him?" Vala asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because he likes you, not me… and there he is now," she waved her arm and shouted, "Hey, Bill!"

Vala's eyes widened, "Don't you dare, Geneva… I will never forgive for this." Vala had never considered Geneva much of a friend. She was obnoxious and Vala felt she was stuck with her for life. Vala didn't turn around, but she could hear the crunch of the leaves under his feet as he drew near. She passed a hand over her eyes and sighed, "Merlin's beard." _Tall and lanky_, she thought critically, _how attractive_.

"Hey Geneva… oh hey, Vala… I didn't see you," Bill greeted. 

Vala smiled graciously, and tried not to notice how much Bill had changed. She was dating Saxon, she didn't have _time_ to look at other guys. And she hated to admit it, but Bill was kind of cute.

"I was just telling Vala how cute you are, Bill."

Vala glared at her friend and grumbled, "I'm sorry… you'll have to excuse how immature she is." Vala looked away and across the field filled with teenagers. They were all training to become witches or wizards, and often hung out in a deserted field; it wasn't much, but it was a place everyone could be together. Parents became more suspicious with each passing day, and their children weren't allowed to have many friends over. The Field was like a club, and everyone was invited. Anyone was welcome, and everyone trusted each other. Few problems occurred, and there was always someone there to help you.

__

You never know who might show up, Vala thought bitterly, _if only Saxon was here_. Saxon was a tall, Quidditch player with ebony hair and eyes as blue as the night sky. He played on the Slytherin team, and was in his last year at Hogwarts. Saxon was Vala's boyfriend of one year, and she thought she loved him. When he kissed her, she felt as if she could love no one else, and they were meant to be together forever. She often pictured herself as the beautiful princess and he, her handsome prince. She had always hated fairy tales, but when she gazed into Saxon's eyes she forgot that. Those were past memories, and she could only think of the future with him. There was only problem, Saxon had left school a few weeks early and she hadn't seen or heard from him since. 

"Who are those in the bushes?" Geneva whispered, "I don't like the looks of them."

"Slytherins up to no good," Bill shrugged. He sure seemed more passive than Vala remembered.

"The whole lot's in with You-Know-Who… disgusting Slytherins," Geneva snarled. Surprisingly enough, Geneva was a Beater for Hufflepuff's House. Quidditch had strongly inflicted her judgement on Slytherins, and she knew them for their lying and cheating. Vala, however, knew them for their honesty and charm. She knew how adventurous the Slytherins were, and often envied them for their boldness. 

"That's an awfully sharp tongue for a Hufflepuff." Geneva was quick on her feet and sharply turned to face the insulting man. _Geneva may be a Hufflepuff_, Vala observed, _but she has got some wicked reflexes. _

"Sod off," Geneva snapped.

"Filthy Mudblood," the offending male sneered. 

Vala blinked hard through the dark, "Saxon?"

He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Do I know you?"

Vala cocked her head to the side. "You're Saxon Malfoy aren't you?" It was too dark for her to really tell. 

"Malfoy…" Bill growled. He may be passive, but be still hated the Malfoys; a type of Weasley tradition. 

Saxon grinned, "Pleasure seeing you here, Weasley. Never thought that overprotective mother of yours would let you leave the house. Though, I suppose she's too busy worrying about that poor excuse of a wizard she's married to."

"My father is a highly respected wizard, and more honorable than any father of yours." Bill's fist clenched and reclenched as he glared at Saxon. "We have high morals, and my mother wouldn't have anything to worry about if it weren't for sods like you. I don't suppose people like you have much to worry about."

"What are you implying, Weasley?"

"Nothing, of course. I just know you'd have to be real whacked out to attack a Death Eater, let alone the nephew of Lucius Malfoy."

Saxon glared piercingly at him, "Choose your words carefully, Weasley." He stepped steadily towards Bill, his hand resting on his wand. All he had to do was pull the wand out of his pocket, curse Weasley, wipe the other's minds and walk away. He'd do it fast and neat… it seemed so perfect, but Vala had to interfere.

With hardened eyes she stepped between Bill and Saxon. Taking Saxon's arm she led him away from her friends, "What has gotten into you?"

"What has gotten into you?" he snarled. "Do you even realize what you're doing?" He pointed at Geneva and Bill, who were too far to hear his harsh words, 

"Associating with a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff? Let alone a Mudblood. Are you mad?" he stared at her in disbelief before adding, "How revolting and disgraceful."

"What's disgraceful is your behavior," she snapped. 

"I won't allow it, Vevila. No girlfriend of mine is to be seen with such lowly creatures."

"No boyfriend of mine will tell me how to live as he sees appropriate. And those lowly creatures are my friends," she defended. That was a lie, and she knew it, but somehow it seemed like the right thing to say. 

Saxon bent low to look her directly in the eye. His eyes were like two chipped pieces of ice; the blue so pale it was chilling. He bore deeper into her eyes, studying them steadily, watching her every movement. "The eyes are a curious instrument, Vevila… they allow us to see all, but to some they are our greatest fault… Bill is annoying, is he not? And Geneva is a grand slut. Or shall I say… Scarlet Woman?" She had the horrible feeling that he could read her mind. It was impossible, right? It had to be. "It's a shame you spend so much time wondering if you're stuck with them for good… We all have such fools following our every step. They are curious beasts of devotion, are they not?" He smiled and chuckled softly to himself. "They are not your friends, Vevila. They never were. And though they may think you are theirs, you have never considered them yours."

Vala raised a hand and slapped him. "Knock it off, Saxon," she demanded. 

He didn't skip a beat. "And what do you think of me? Well, you think I am acting like an inconsiderate jerk, but that doesn't matter… because you think you love me," he mocked. 

Her eyes began to water, "Stop it, Saxon."

"You think we'll get married, and be there for each other all through eternity. That nothing will come between us… after all, we're soul mates aren't we, Vevila?" A wicked smirk curled his lips in satisfaction. "Have I hurt you now, Vevila?"

A tear dropped from her eye, "Why are you doing this? I hate you…" Vala slowly lowered her head as tears streamed down her face. _What has gotten into him? What's changed him?_ If only she knew that his father, the dear brother of Lucius Malfoy and Death Eater, and just crossed Saxon over. 

"Oh, now, now, now…" he tsked. "You are speaking out of spite, and my words haven't faltered your love for me in the least." He lifted her head, and peered into her eyes, "You're like a child in a fairy tale, Vevila… when will ever grow up?"

Vevila sucked air between her teeth, but just as she was opening her mouth a loud explosion interrupted her. She instinctively moved closer to Saxon, and he grinned as he wrapped an arm tightly around her. 

"It sounds as if the Death Eaters have preformed another attack," Saxon predicted. It was a lame guess, as he already knew the answer. 

Vala pulled away from him, "Another attack?" Something struck her heart, and she realized it was fear. She wiped her forehead, and gulped. "I… I have to go, Saxon."

"What is it? Do you fear it was your family?" he asked cynically. 

Vala drew her eyebrows together. Suspicously, she asked, "What are you talking about?" 

Saxon reached out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her closer, and held her up against him. He licked her cheek and hissed, "I can taste the fear on your skin." It was an odd gesture, and to say the least, it freaked Vala out. His voice was so empty and emotionless that she struggled against him. This wasn't the Saxon she said goodbye to last year, the Saxon she kissed and hugged… this was an animal; an emotionless beast of darkness and hopelessness. She pushed against him and he let her go. She sprinted several feet from him before glancing back. She said goodbye to everything he had ever given to her, and she broke into a run; hoping to never see him again. Saxon, however, only grinned in pleasure.


	2. Enter Sandman

Enter Sandman

__

something's wrong, shut the light

heavy thoughts tonight

and they aren't of snow white

dreams of war, dreams of liars

dreams of dragon's fire

and of things that will bite

sleep with one eye open

gripping your pillow tight

"A fine young one… I'll handle the girl," the man smirked. His companion threw her arm across his chest, "Let her be… this one has been affected."

Vala ran through the dark forest, passing the unseen faces; barely escaping with her life. She had to hurry home. She wasn't sure what she might meet, but she knew she had to get home. The agony one must go through, relying on their mortal strengths. She couldn't Disapperate or perform any spells; it was summer and such things were forbidden outside of Hogwarts. She ran and ran, thinking she wasn't making any progress. Never had she realized home was so far from The Field. She gritted her teeth impatiently, "If only… there was another way…" But she knew there wasn't. 

Half an hour passed before she made it back to her neighborhood. _A fire_, her head screamed, _there's a fire near home!_ She picked up her pace, but a voice in her head told her to stop. The human body is frail and it can only take so much before it breaks. _There's no time_, she reminded herself. She had only slowed down for a few moments before she sped up again. 

A few minutes had past and she finally reached her home, or what had once been her home. The mailbox lay on its side, and what remained of the house was smoking. The second floor had collapsed into the ground floor, and the windows had all shattered. A great fire had been lit, and had destroyed the house. The faintest shimmer of green still hovered above her home, all that was left of the Dark Mark. 

Vala's chest heaved in protest; she was exhausted, but she slowly stepped closer. She had to know if anyone had survived. "Mother… Father?" she whimpered. She stepped over what was left of the wall, and her eyes shot back and forth, hoping to see someone. "Hello?" she whispered, beginning to panic. The room reeked of burning flesh, but she continued. _They must be alive_, she encouraged, _they must_. 

Her timid eyes spotted something white and burnt. Her stomach lurched. She had to see what it was, but in her heart she already knew. She drew closer, and upon reaching it she let out a piercing scream. She screamed in agony and pain until her lungs lacked, and she collapsed on the floor in a huddled mass. She scrambled away on her back, and burnt her hand on a piece of wood that was still warm. Tears spilling from her eyes, she pulled her legs up to her chest and sobbed. She shook mercilessly and tried to recollect what she had seen. 

Vala wept into her knees like a tiny child would. Maybe she hadn't seen what she thought, but she doubted it. She knew what she saw. _Those glassy eyes_, she cried, _so large and glazed over_. It seemed she sat there for hours, mourning over her parents' death. 

A child often takes their parents' existence for granted. A child believes their parents will be there when they bought their first car, got married, had children… but the truth is no one is guaranteed a safe future. You can exercise and diet every day of your life and one morning while you're jogging a car hits you. Then what? An entire life of fitness wasted. It all comes down to fate. 

Vala had expected her parents to be there for her through everything. They were supposed to be there when she succeed, when she failed, through all the laughter and tears. _They were supposed to be there_, she cried. "Why have you left me?" she screamed in rage, "Why did you go?" She cried harder and wept bitterly into her lap. 

~+~+~+~

Occasionally, the wood crackled, but all else was deadly silent. "Where is everyone?" she whispered. A breeze shook her. "Why is it so cold?" She hugged her knees tighter, and sighed. The worst of the crying seemed to have past, and only depression and questions remained. 

"A real pity it is," a man sighed. 

Vala stirred slightly. Was she imagining it, or did a man just speak to her? Someone was moving towards her, she could hear him. Slowly, her eyes shifted upwards to see a tall, strong man standing close by her. He didn't appear to have seen her, and she took advantage of the moment. Her anger grew step by step. Stealthily as a snake, she slipped her wand from her sleeve and pointed it at him. "What business do you have here?" she hissed. 

The man jumped on his heels, and stared at her with wide eyes. "Didn't fancy you'd see a living soul?" she whispered. His eyes were a darker shade than hers, almost black. His thick, black hair was tied back, and his robes shivered in the wind. He was younger than she had thought; even handsome. _Looks can't save you now_, she thought bitterly. 

Vala only held up the wall for a short while, for soon she lost her drive and depression swept over her again. She sighed and lowered her wand. "Leave while you can… I have no business with you." What a spectacle she must have been; what a child she must have seemed to him. She felt incredibly tired. Tired of fighting, tired of breathing. _Take it away, _she thought_, take it all away_. She blinked slowly and a tear rolled down her already tear-stained cheeks. 

The man drew closer, but Vala was too exhausted to protest. He waved his wand above her head, and mumbled some nonsense words. She couldn't hear him, but she felt the effects as she drifted off into a deep sleep. The last thing she would remember was a softer voice than the one before, whispering, "My God, Sirius… will she be alright?"

~+~+~+~

Vala woke up alone. But more curiously than this was the couch she lay on; it was an old, beat up one, which had apparently seen better days. The living room was unfamiliar, and she wondered where she might be. Then it all came back: Her parents were dead and her home destroyed, she had seen them both. She sighed softly and nearly sat up before she heard two men speaking in hushed voices.

"I'm unsure how long we can keep her here," the first one said. 

"Where else can we take her? Voldemort thinks she's dead. She's not safe anywhere else." The second one replied. His voice was rougher; not unpleasant, but much harder than his friend's. 

"What makes you think she's safe here? If she's discovered…" 

"But she won't be… Just trust me on this, Remus."

The man sighed, "Sirius… how many times have I heard that before? We should at least tell Dumbledore. He'll know what to make of this. The Amoureuxs were, after all, involved with the Order."

_So the men have names_, she noted, _I wonder if they have hearts._

"Do you have any idea what we might throw her into? Dumbledore may be a fine wizard, but not even he can ward off the press. Besides, he's got enough to deal with."

"Dumbledore is a great wizard," Remus corrected. "I just don't think it's wise to keep this to ourselves."

"There's always Lily and James, my dear friend." Sirius reminded with a grin.

Vala rolled over on her side and yawned. With luck they'd believe she'd only just woken. She poked her head above the arm of the couch, and glared at them. 

"Why good morning," Sirius smiled.

~+~+~+~

"Feed me," Vala said sharply. Remus pushed a plate towards her. She rose an eyebrow and stared at him skeptically. "How do I know you won't try poisoning me?"

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at her. "If we wanted to kill you we'd have done it already. Besides, I thought you weren't afraid of death." Preoccupied, he sipped his tea.

She glared at him, then replied, "I never said that."

"No, but that was the impression I got last night."

She reached inside her robes, and nervously fingered her wand. _So the fools have forgotten to remove it,_ she thought craftily. Slowly, not to call attention to herself, she moved her wand from her pocket to the inside of her sleeve. "I'm thirsty," she said rudely. 

Remus rose to his feet and left the room, but Sirius sat reading his newspaper as if he hadn't heard her. 

Vala stood up and moved cautiously around the table. Sirius acted as if he hadn't noticed, reading his paper attentively. He occasionally mumbled to himself, and stroked his chin every now and again. She sat down next to him, then turned to stare at him. 

"Are you feeling alright?" Remus had returned with the tea. 

She ignored him and continued to stare at Sirius, studying him. He was capable of so much more than she was, but she planned to overcome that and overpower him. Maybe if she could him off guard… He acted as if he hadn't noticed her new position, and turned another page. 

Carefully, she reached out her hand and touched his cheek; it was rough and warm. This shocked her. She wasn't sure why, but she had expected him to be as cold as death. She carefully moved her hand from his cheek and down his neck. With caution, she slid her arm around his neck, and with a quickened pace she leapt to her feet and held him in a headlock. _That was easy… _She pulled him from his chair, and backed herself against the wall. She had slipped her wand from her sleeve and held it against his temple.

"I could kill you," she whispered, "just as you killed my parents."

Sirius tensed, and confusion spilt across his face. Remus tilted his head, and the vision of a wolf shot through Vevila's mind. Something about him was peculiar. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something wrong with him. He seemed muscular, but he did not possess bulky Quidditch muscles, but slim ballet ones. He was like a great, grey wolf; slim, yet strong. He moved with great grace, and this confused her more. Why should a man his age master such graceful movement? Why was he not more like Sirius; a wizard of great visible strength? You almost pitied Remus, but for lost reasons, for he was a great wizard of secret abilities and hidden knowledge. 

Remus was shocked, yet not alarmed. Had there been others before her? Did they always kidnap underage witches for their powerful leader Voldemort? She tightened her grip around Sirius' neck, "Why did you do it? What were they involved in?"

Remus' shoulders sank. The almighty wolf had disappeared and only a weak man remained. He turned his back on her and gazed out the window. She hadn't noticed it before, but they were in a wooded area near a pond. 

"We didn't kill your parents, Vala. We were too late… the crime had already been done. I knew both your father and mother… they were in alliance with Dumbledore, and that cost them their life. I knew of you, and I expected you to have been slaughtered as well." He turned to face her, "How did you escape?" A piece to the puzzle he could never find. 

She unconsciously loosened her grip on Sirius. "I wasn't home." 

Sirius removed her arm from his neck with ease, and turned to face her. He looked her straight in the eye, and said, "We will find them, Vala… I swear that to you."

~+~+~+~

"He's lost all his senses," Remus scorned with a smile. 

Vala glanced up from the crossword puzzle she had been working on, "Is he swimming again?"

"Yep," Remus answered as he watched Sirius climb out of the pond, and swan dive back in.

"He looks like a retarded duck," Vala mused, turning her attention back to her crossword puzzle. 

Remus snickered and sipped his cup of tea. He watched Sirius climb out of the pond again, only this time he noticed his audience and waved. Remus smiled as Sirius did a flip into the pond. "I hope he cracks his head, the show off." 

"What's a male deer called?" Vala asked seemingly at random, dipping her quill in a small container filled with amethyst ink.

Remus blinked and paused before answering, "A stag."

He heard the scratching of her quill and a hum of triumph. "If only everyone could be as intelligent as I." 

"As intelligent as me," Remus corrected. 

"Oh, shut up." Sirius ran to the side of the house and out of sight. "Where's he going?" she asked curiously.

"I'm not sure… to dry off possibly?" he answered innocently. 

"He's a wizard. Surely he knows a spell or charm," she pointed out.

Remus smiled and replied softly, "What's the fun in that?"

Vala shrugged and soon after, Sirius walked through the front door. She turned in her seat to greet him, but crinkled her nose and complained, "You smell like a wet dog."

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus as he took a seat. 

"Sirius!" he exclaimed. "You're dripping water everywhere!"

Vala had to grin at that one. At times, Remus acted like a little housewife, but Sirius always waved him off. They were an interesting pair, and Vala always enjoyed observing them. She had only been with them for a little over a month now, but it felt like an eternity. She had met their closest friends, Peter, James and Lily. And she had become their secret little pet. They hid her from guests, and rarely spoke of her. She didn't mind much as guests were few, and secrets were rarely shared. They were like paranoid little children; afraid their parents would discover their pet and give her away. And the Death Eaters often took on the role of their parents; keeping a close eye on everyone, and hoping to spot something out of place. In that respect, they were all like brothers; closer in age, and always around. Lily was married into this little family, and they all loved and accepted her.

They all owned Vala, but even they knew she could run away. They'd cry and mourn, but accept their fate and move on. And like a loved pet, she could never be replaced. 

Sirius was built like a Quidditch player with thick, black hair. And like all the unfair laws of nature, he had the volume most women would kill for. In many ways he reminded her of Saxon, the old Saxon; The Saxon who'd sneak out late at night and meet her outside the castle's main door; The Saxon who'd walk with her across the main grounds, and bring her presents. The Saxon who ceased to surprise her… he still surprised her, but those surprises had been darkened immensely. 

Sirius breathed deeply. "Ah, there's nothing more refreshing than freshly brewed tea. Mind getting me a cup, Moony?" Remus impatiently preformed a quick spell to dry up the puddles of water, and crossed his arms.

"Don't count on it, Sirius."

Sirius widened his eyes and sniffled, "Please?" Yes, Sirius had Saxon's old charm and appeal. The kind of man you could never say no to.

Remus sighed and answered, "Fine."

Sirius grinned triumphantly and cheered, "Thanks, Moon-Dog."

Vala drew her eyebrows together; she had never understood the pet names. They were full-grown men, yet they never ceased to call each other by their childhood nicknames. In serious conversations they called each other by their real names, if they were in fact their real names. And they all had a creative name, save Lily and she. It was almost as if they weren't privileged enough to receive such a title. Lily accepted the fact, but Vala was irritated by it. She slept in their homes, ate their food, and joked with them. Lily was married into this family, but Vala was their pet. She was around Remus more than any of the others, and yet she didn't deserve a name? Yes, only the Brothers did. It was a stupid thing for her to complain about, but she couldn't help it; it was little things like this that bothered her. She felt as if she wasn't fully accepted by them. She felt as if timid, soft-spoken Peter was higher than she was. And this bothered her because she felt herself superior to the short, balding man. 

Remus had returned with two cups of tea. "Thirsty, Vala?" 

She smiled at him and happily took a cup from his hands. She had never liked tea very much, but she thought it was rude to ignore the extra trouble he had gone through. It was hard to ignore a man who was constantly thinking about you. Remus wasn't in love with her; she knew that. He was like her older brother, or master rather, as she often thought herself as his little pet. He was only concerned about her welfare and he had made that clear long ago. 

Vala understood them so well, but there were so many questions she yearned to ask them. She never would. She kept so many thoughts to herself and only released enough for them to understand what she needed. Right now all she needed was acceptance and a place to belong. 

An unspoken promise had been made, and they vowed to be with her always. She knew this, and that's possibly why she never asked any questions. They would deny her of nothing, so she never pushed for answers.

"Sirius, would you mind taking Vala tonight?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sure, why not." He glanced at his friend and asked curiously, "What's tonight?"

Vala watched Remus over the tip of her cup. "Just a night out to the country. It's supposed to be a full moon, and that means the fields should be bright." He smiled, but it failed to reach his eyes. She read weariness in those eyes; he was thinking of other things than the enjoyable silence of the country. She didn't think much of it, and took another sip of the dreadful tea. Sirius saw her grimace and smiled inwardly. He politely chose not to mention it, and picked up the newspaper. 

However, his light mood quickly changed. "I don't believe it." 

"What is it?" Remus asked.

Sirius shook his head, and passed the paper over to Remus. "What happened?" Vala asked patiently. 

"Another family has been attacked," Remus sighed.

"Who was it?" Vala whispered.

"The Longbottoms."

Vala had heard the name before, but she couldn't place it. She racked her mind, but came up with a blank. Then Sirius offered a thought, "They were friends of your parents, perhaps you knew them?" 

That was it, they had been friends of her parents. She shook her head. "I've heard of them, but no… I didn't know them personally." She fell silent and held her cup close to her lips. The warmth of the tea calmed her; it helped her to relax. She closed her eyes thoughtfully, and tried hard to remember a time before the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Her mind immediately went to her father. She remembered all the late night conversations about Fairies and Elves; she remembered their talks about the mysteries of the moon and stars; all the tales about Gods and Goddesses. Slowly, she realized they were only memories, things of the past, they could never be relived. She remembered all the unfinished business she had with her parents. She had cursed them and hated them, but she never told them how much she loved them… and now she never could.

Vala's hands shook uncontrollably and the tea she held splashed in its glass; slapping the sides relentlessly. The cup fell from her grasp and shattered on the wooden floor. She continued to shake, and pulled her knees up to her chin. So cold, she was so cold. _Why was it so freezing? Why was she so alone?_ She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears seeped out. Things had changed; no one was safe anymore. "Not again, not again," she whimpered. 

Suddenly, she felt a steady hand on each shoulder, and she knew whom they belonged to, but she batted them away. "No, go away… leave me alone." 

"Vala! It's all right, stop this…" She felt someone holding her shoulders tightly, and shaking her. 

"No, no…" Her eyes flashed open, and she found Sirius' face inches from her own. Her eyes watered and she pulled Sirius into a hug. "It's not all right," she cried into his shoulder. "You'll leave me… both of you." Her eyes flickered to Remus. "You'll leave me just like everything else I've ever loved." 

"No, that will never happen, Vala. Never," Sirius reassured. 

Vala bit her lip and loosened her grip on Sirius. Remus was kneeling at her side, and she slowly reached out to him. He smiled warmly, and she pulled him closer. She held them by their necks; crying hard into Remus' shoulder. "Don't you ever leave me… Don't you ever."

__

(A/N: I apologize for how fast moving this is… but I didn't want to go too much into her summer. I also apologize for how angst-ridden it is. Just stick around, stories always get better the further you get into them.)


	3. Automatic

Automatic

__

I think, I think I know it all,  
but can I be sure of the things I've grown to know,  
and can I say I know it all,  
when rules just guide me to blindly follow  
and things are automatic when you see them everyday  
is it the same routine  
or my fucked up dreams,  
that keep me walking mindless all the way?  
I think, I think I know it all  
but is our beliefs just stringing us along  
and was there something wrong in what I heard,  
for every hour of the day?

"What are you doing?"

Sirius was kneeling close to his motorcycle, stroking it affectionately and whispering to it. "Don't you mind her," Sirius told his motorcycle. "She's a pain anyhow, and if I can help it she will never touch you."

Vala frowned. "You're so odd."

Sirius glanced at her annoyingly and asked, "You're still here?"

"Yes," she replied, scooping up a handful of mud. "But soon I'll be leaving." With an unpleasant splat Sirius' freshly waxed motorcycle was hit by the first mudball of the season. 

Sirius looked thoroughly shocked, but he wouldn't let that stop him from getting revenge. He threw down the towel he had been caressing the motorcycle with and made a mudball of his own. He was successful in his aim and hit Vala in the back of the head as she made an attempt to escape. An alarmed scream emitted from her as her head jerked forward from the force of the impact. She spun on her heels to face Sirius. "Oh you're going to **pay** for that one!" Shaking with hysterics she sunk her hands in a mud puddle, and pulled up a large, glooping mudball. Sirius managed to duck that one, but she was quick and the next one hit him in the chest. 

"Oooh, you're asking for it," he rumbled with a smirk, tackling her. Vala was thrown into the thick mud puddle with Sirius atop her. 

Vala screamed again, and tried to push him off. He wouldn't budge with all her pleading, and as a last resource she rubbed mud into his hair; acting spontaneously isn't always a good thing, and this was proved true when the mud from his hair began dripping in her face. He laughed richly and rolled off of her. 

_You think you've won? _She couldn't accept the fact, so she pounced him. This time Sirius was the one laying around in mud puddles and Vala had the advantage of being on top. Not so luckily, Remus had chosen that exact moment to remind the two about Harry's birthday party. 

"You two-" Remus cut himself short; it took him a moment to regain his breath. He smiled inwardly and finished his first thought differently, "I thought I told you not to do that in the front yard."

Vala stared up at Remus, confused, then she realized her current position could be taken out of proportion. "I… it's not what it looks like, Remus." And quickly rolled off Sirius, which consequently placed her back in the mud. 

"I never said it looked like anything," he said, smiling slightly. "We're leaving for James' in a little under an hour. I suggest you both shower--separately--and make yourselves look presentable."

"Aye, aye, captain!" Sirius saluted mockingly.

~+~+~+~

"Would you mind handing me that?"

"Not at all," Vala replied handing Lily the icing. Carefully, Lily squeezed the tube and thick, creamy icing oozed out onto the cooling cake. Licking her lip, she concentrated hard on keeping it smooth. Vala smiled as Lily hummed verses from Happy Birthday. "You know, there is a spell for that," Vala offered, referring to the cake. 

Lily only smiled to herself and replied, "I'm Muggle born and I'll be damned if I only rely on magic." 

Vala nodded and turned in her seat to watch the Brothers in the living room. She never did understand it, using the Muggle ways when the person was clearly a wizard. The same seemed to go for Remus. Neither Lily or Remus used magic if it wasn't necessary; it was almost as if they wanted to prove they could live without it. She didn't know whom they were fooling; it was obvious they avoided magic as much as they used it. 

Vala watched James hold Harry as he cooed and laughed. James had a sweet laugh, and Vala could see why Lily had fallen in love with him. He was honorable and bold, romantic and charming. He was both loving and loyal, someone reliable. It was no wonder, really, how anyone could love him. 

Vala could love him, but she could never fall _in_ love with him. The man had pros and cons, and at times she only saw his faults. He would never take advantage of anyone, and he always stood up for the weak, but she didn't need that. She didn't want that. He would try to protect her, and she was a girl of little protection. She needed her freedom, and she knew James would be a cage; shielding her from harm and always saving the day. She needed the rainy days as much as the sunny ones and he would be too willing to protect her from the rain. 

Remus and Lily, for that matter, were protective as well. They were like older siblings, only concerned about protecting their little sister. Or maybe they were more like parents; protecting their child from the evils of the world. It was hard for her to consider herself a sibling or a child when she had thought of herself as pet for so long. She was always the one they fussed over; the one they worried about. At times, they let her live her own life, but at other times she was locked up in a cage. She sighed, they were too close to be parents, but they were too far to be siblings. Wasn't there a happy middle? 

There seemed to be an inside joke going around the circle, and Sirius slapped Peter good-naturedly on the back. Peter, however, was never equal to Sirius' strength and fell forward. Vala shook her head; what was it with this guy? She never used to pity Peter, at one point he was even her rival. She wanted everything he had; she believed she would fit better in his place. But then she realized no one could replace Peter. He was the short, helpless friend; the one everyone risked their neck for. He was always a step behind, but they'd always help him along. As worthless as Peter was, Vala loved him. Maybe love is too strong… she was… fond of him?

Peter admired them, even honored them. Saxon's old words slipped into her head, _They are curious beasts of devotion, are they not?_ She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Perhaps that was the reason she despised Peter; he had always reminded her of Saxon's last words. _Last words_, she laughed silently, _it's as if he's dead_. But he was dead. At least, he was dead to her. 

~+~+~+~

"This is delicious, Lily," James commented. He sat at the head of the table with Lily on his left. Sirius sat on Lily's left, Vala across from Sirius, and Remus on Vala's left. Peter sat at the other end of the table, across from James. 

Sirius ate another spoonful with haste. Vala stared at him. _He eats like a dog, _she observed, _devouring it all as if he's afraid it'll be taken away from him_. "You're going to choke, eating like that," she warned, eating modestly. 

He shoved another spoonful in his mouth, and watched her closely. As human beings often do, she gave in and returned the eye lock. He chewed slowly, and when he thought no one else was looking, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. When Vala screamed in disgust he closed his mouth, looked down at his plate, and finished chewing. Everyone turned their attention to Sirius, but he only glanced around innocently, shrugged and continued to eat. After her revolting surprise, Vala avoided Sirius' gaze, though he waited patiently. 

_Sirius,_ she tsked, _to think I thought no one was worse than Geneva_. She frowned at him, but even he knew she was grinning proudly inside. He was obnoxious and he was immature, but he was Sirius. And though she'd scorn him and lecture him, everyone knew she loved him. _Love,_ she laughed, _what a funny thing it is_. She honestly hated to admit it, but she loved them all. Once, she had hated them, loathed and despised them, but those days were gone. It was hard to believe it'd only been a month and a half ago. A month and a half ago she had lost her home and the only family she ever knew. It had only been a month since her last breakdown, when she had made Sirius and Remus swear they'd never leave her. Things had definitely changed, but change was good. 

"Where's the birthday boy?" Remus asked cheerfully. 

As if on cue bright red and gold sparks shot out from under the table. Sirius grinned and moved in a position to look under the table. "Ah, that's my boy… you just keep walking in my foot steps." He reached under the fine oak table, and picked up the giggling baby. "Such a handsome boy," Sirius commented. "Must take after me… His father certainly doesn't possess such charm." 

"I'd like to know how Harry could've received your genes. After all, you're not blood related," Vevila pointed out sarcastically. "Unless, of course, there were some… unspoken relations?"

Lily was shocked, rarely had she heard Vala speak so freely. She had the impression that Vala was an observant, well-spoken woman; was she ever wrong. Sirius received a different impression, he felt egged on, and he'd never let his fans down. He slid his arm around Lily's waist and grinned. "Vala, my dear, there are always unspoken relationships."

Peter snickered, but then but it never did take much to humor him. Remus and James sat back in their seats, enjoying the after dinner entertainment. Vala rolled up her sleeves, a smirk smeared across her face. 

But just as she was opening her mouth, Remus yelped then leapt to his feet. "Oh my, look at the time… I've got to go."

Vala tilted her head in confusion. "Why the rush?"

Remus grabbed his coat and hurried around the table. He kissed Harry on the forehead and smiled briefly. "Happy Birthday, Harry." He poked the giggling boy's nose and belly. He turned to Lily and kissed her on the cheek. "Delicious dinner. Sorry I couldn't stay for cake."

She smiled and replied, "We'll save you a slice, love."

Remus pulled his arms through his coat sleeves and began to speak, "James… thanks for having me-" 

James stood and the two embraced like brothers. "It was my pleasure. You're welcome any time."

Slowly, Remus was making his way around the table, speaking briefly with every person he passed. Next, he patted Sirius on the back. "Would you mind taking Vala for me tonight?" 

Vala stood up before Sirius could answer and wiping her mouth she replied, "Oh, he doesn't have to bother… I'll just come with you." 

"No!" everyone seemed to shout at once. Vala was perplexed, and she glanced around the table. They were keeping something from her. Once again she fell into the child's place. These were her parents, and they decided what she would learn. They had the right to keep secrets from her, and she had no right to question them. 

Remus nervously filled in the awkward silence. "It's probably better if you stay with Sirius tonight." He wiped his forehead again and nervously glanced out the window. Vala observed him carefully. The more the sun sank, the more jumpy he became. Perhaps it was her imagination, but he acted as if he were afraid of nightfall. She wasn't sure what the night might bring, but apparently it wasn't anything to his liking. 

Sirius wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand and handed Harry to James. "I'll walk you out, Moony." Vala watched attentively as the two wizards stood up and exited the house. She desperately wanted to follow them, but she knew the others would keep her back. She sighed and turned away from the window. Wherever Remus was going, she obviously wasn't important enough to know.

"Vala, would you mind slicing the cake for me?" Lily asked, trying to change the subject.

"No, not at all."

~+~+~+~

"I'll check up on Peter."

"You don't have to do that, Sirius."

Sirius smiled and replied, "It's Harry's birthday, I'll spare James… and I don't think you'll be in much of a condition to check in on him."

"I had forgotten that," Remus flustered.

"Obviously. So where are you going tonight?"

"I…" he rung his hands nervously and glanced at the sinking sun, "You don't think she knows, do you?" 

Remus was the calm wolf, someone who never interfered and let things be as they were. He never tried to change things out of his grasp, and he never showed his worries. That is, unless it was a day followed by a full moon. Nights of the full moon were Remus' personal Hell. Those were the days he became suspicious and nervous. Vala didn't know about Remus' lycanthropy, and he was always worried she might find out. After all, werewolves were freaks of society, untrustworthy and vicious. Remus was not at all untrustworthy, or vicious for that matter, but how do you explain that to a paranoid, judgmental society?

"No." Sirius shook his head. "I think she suspects we're hiding something from her, but she's unsure what." Remus exhaled a sigh of relief and Sirius repeated, "Where are you headed tonight?"

"Any more dawdling and I don't think I'll make it off Godric's Hollow."

Sirius paused to stare at him, then demanded with a hint of curiosity, "Did you just say dawdling?"


	4. Polyamorous

Polyamorous

__

The day has come to an end

The sun is over my head

My polyamorous friend got me in a mess of trouble again so

Just when you think that you're all right

I'm crawlin out from the inside

I never hurt anyone

I never listen at all

Sirius glanced at his watch. "Well, James… it's been great, but it's getting late." 

Lily was heading for the stairs when Sirius stopped her. "Let me say goodnight to the birthday boy." She smiled and handed the sleeping child over. Slightly disturbed, Harry yawned and stretched his arms skyward. A twinkle lit Sirius' eyes as he bent low to kiss his godson on the forehead. "You mind your mother now." Carefully, he handed Harry back to Lily, and she slowly turned to walk up the stairs. 

"I'll be up in a minute," James assured. 

Vala had been staring out the window, ignoring the others for most of the night. She did, however, turn to watch Sirius say goodnight to Harry. She wasn't ready to give up her cold exterior, so she turned away; watching Harry and Sirius together always warmed her heart. 

"Take care of yourself, Prongs." Sirius said.

"Don't worry about us, Padfoot."

Vala stood up and straightened her cloaks. Without a backward glance or goodbye, she left. Sirius wouldn't be long. Her steps as empty as Godric's Hollow, she looked to the sky. '_Whenever you're alone, look to the sky,' _her father had said, or something to that effect. A hand closed over the old charm. A gentle sigh escaped her, _Father and his stories… why do I sill hold on? Stories are, after all, only creative lies._

She felt cut off. Excluded. She wanted to know why Remus had left so abruptly, and why she couldn't go with him. The moon shined down on her, giving her clues to a riddle she couldn't solve. _Things seem to be back to how they were. How devastating. _

Vala continuously tried to place herself, and it bothered her that she never could anymore. For instance, she had once considered Saxon a lover, but now she wasn't sure what he was to her. And that made her wonder what she was to him. Did he still love her? Would he ever need her again? And what about Remus? Was he really a brother? He was more than a friend, but less than a dad. Did that make him a brother, then? She could never see him any different. He was the older man that took care of her, and watched after her. He could never be a simple friend or a passionate lover. She wanted neither from him, and he felt likewise. Was that why she always considered herself a pet? Was she someone to be hidden away and protected? She wasn't a child anymore. 

What of Peter? James and Lily? They were like older siblings, but they were never as close to Vala as an older sibling might be. Perhaps they were. Maybe they were all like siblings. Ten years split them. And a simple decade seemed to stretch. At times it seemed so short, only months apart, but at other times it seemed to last forever. She was the only one cut off. She was the one born after they had all grown up. She was the one who could never understand how things used to be. She was never there when they had to work together, and hide together. She was never there when all the exciting adventures occurred. She was born after it all. And that was why she was cut off. That was why she never heard the secrets. That was why she could never place them. She loved and despised them. She was dependent and independent. 

They were too old to be siblings, and too young to be parents. Vala stopped on that thought, and an old song slipped into her mind. "Too old to rock and roll, and too young to die…"

She sighed sharply. What of Sirius? What was he in this huge, jumbled mess? He was the hardest to place of them all. He was the most complicated one. He was far from a brother even further from a parent. He wasn't as close as a lover, and he was horribly closer than a friend. He was so close to her, but he was so far away. How could someone confuse her worse? How could she hate him so much, but love him even more? _Bloody sod…_

It was once said that if you were thinking about the devil that he might show up uninvited. The saying must be true because at that exact moment she felt Sirius' breath down her neck. Sirius. The mischievous devil that he was. She wanted him to be closer. She wanted the space between them to disappear. She wanted to hold him and never let go. She walked away. She wanted him to be far away. She didn't want him to touch her or be near her. She was only a child. She could never have him; this both bothered and relieved her. 

"Why did he have to go?"

Sirius nodded knowingly. He had suspected she would ask. "He's a hopeless dreamer. Hours spent gazing at the stars." 

In an instant she was facing him. "That's bullshit, Sirius. If you can't tell me--then fine, but don't lie to me. Don't you even _conside_r lying to me." 

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I thought…"

"You thought what?" she snapped. "Did you think you were protecting me? Filling my head with lies? I would take the truth, no matter how painful, over lies any day. I've been lied to most of my life, and I refuse to take it from you. Of all people, I thought you were above that." It was sickening, but true. Parents willingly lie to their children, hoping to protect them from the truth. A parent will tell his or her child all will be fine, even when death is knocking at their door. She had accepted that long ago, but not from Sirius. She wouldn't. _So tell me, Sirius, am I your friend or child? _Vala hated labels and social statuses more than anything, but she needed to know her place in this hectic place; a world where you didn't know your friend from your enemy. And she had to build on that thought. 

Turning away, her steps intertwining with her heavy thoughts, she said, "I'm no stranger to grief, Sirius Black, don't you forget that." 

~+~+~+~

"Vala?"

She didn't bother removing her eyes from the crossword puzzle in front of her; she already knew Sirius was addressing her. Lazily, she offered her acknowledgement, "Hmm?"

"I'm leaving to check up on Peter, but I should be back shortly… Think you can manage?"

This time she did bring her eyes to his. "Why?"

In a would be casual voice, he said, "No reason. Just seeing how he is." For emphasis he shrugged. 

"He was at Harry's birthday party," she pointed out suspiciously. "Why do you have to see him again?" Vala and Sirius had left the Potter's an hour or two before, and Peter an hour before them. What could have possibly happened to Peter in those three hours? She rose an eyebrow and asked, "You're not hiding something from me, are you?" 

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, and that made Vala nervous. _He's not lying to me, is he? _she asked herself silently, watching his behavior closer than usual. Vala had always been an observant person, and she often caught the small hints in breaths, eyes, and body language. Sirius had always been an excellent liar, and could easily fool people. However, his close friends weren't easily fooled as they knew him too well. Vala was an exception. She had only known Sirius for a few short months, but she knew when he was lying. With a shake of her head she turned back to her puzzle. "Go on, Sirius, leave."

He stood hesitantly and began, "Vala-" 

"I said leave." It'd been a long day, and she wasn't sure how much she could have taken. To end her bitter day, he sighed softly and left. 

~+~+~+~

"Peter?" Sirius entered Peter's hiding place, glancing around cautiously. "Peter?" he called out again, but no answer was given. Sirius stepped inside and closed the door behind him, holding his wand close to his side. He knew Peter was a light sleeper, and he also knew Peter wouldn't ignore him; times were too dangerous to play games. Suspicion hung thickly in the air, and Sirius could smell it all too well. 

Careful to move silently, Sirius searched the small four room flat; Peter was no where to be seen. Confusion splashed across his face. _Something's up, but what?_ He rubbed his head a bit. Peter was gone, but there was no sign of a struggle; it just didn't add up. He had to consult someone on this, but Remus was out of the question and he didn't want to bother Lily and James. Regardless, he left the flat, mounted his motorcycle, and started to fly towards Lily and James'. This was too serious to let go.

~+~+~+~

"My God…" was all Sirius could mutter as his eyesight fell upon the Potter's house, or what used to be their house. Death Eaters, always trying to finish the job off. He dismounted his motorcycle clumsily and spotted an unearthly sight. "Hagrid, what the bloody hell are you doing here?" Sirius' first question, _What happened here,_ went unasked. 

The half-giant's large, saddened eyes looked up at Sirius. "I… its Harry."

Sirius' eyes widened at the thought of his godson; where was he in this jumbled mess? His eyes shot back to Hagrid and he noticed a small moving bundle in his arms. "Is that-" but he said no more and ran towards the half-giant. 

"Here, I'll take him…"

But Hagrid only pulled Harry closer. "I can't. Direct orders from Dumbledore." 

"I'm his godfather, Hagrid." Sirius argued, squinting his eyes a bit. _Why should **he **fight me on this? _

"I'm ter take 'im to his aunts-"

"Are you _joking me_?" Sirius scoffed. 

Hagrid paused for a moment. It seemed to be against his better judgement as well. "Dumbledore reckons it's fer the best," Hagrid replied, only daring Sirius to argue with that. After all, Dumbledore had said it and Dumbledore was _always_ right. 

"For the best?" Sirius echoed exuberantly. "They're barbarians!" Well, not quite, but not far off either. 

"Now, Sirius-"

"Muggles, Hagrid, Muggles!" Not that Sirius was a segregationist or anything. "Harry's a Wizard--have you _met_ his aunt? For his best?" Sirius repeated, a thought he couldn't quite comprehend the reasoning behind. 

"I can't," Hagrid pleaded. Sirius was making his job incredibly harder. "'s not goodbye, Sirius, yeh can still see 'im…"

Sirius sighed, and took a seat on a tree stump. He wasn't getting anywhere. Suddenly, he was reminded why he was arguing with Hagrid. "What happened?" he asked weakly. 

Hagrid shared the sigh, and took a seat next to him. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named foun' them…" He dabbed at his eyes with a giant white handkerchief. He sniffled and continued, "I could only fin' Harry here." 

Sirius shook his head sadly, and wiped a tear from his cheek. Sirius was not a weak man, and he certainly didn't cry. But there's a time and place for everything, and learning your best friend had just been murdered was the best time imaginable to shed a few tears. 

"There, there," Hagrid comforted, offering his handkerchief.

Sirius took it and blew his nose, a most unattractive gesture, but appropriate. He folded the handkerchief and handed it back. "Would you… mind if I held Harry before you leave?" His eyes slightly pink. 

Hagrid nodded, and carefully handed Harry over. The child, unaware of what had just happened, giggled at the sight of his godfather. Sirius always had been excellent with children; maybe because he had always been a child at heart. Despite the situation, he cracked a smile. Running his eyes across Harry's face, capturing every detail, he noticed a thin red mark on the boy's forehead. Examining it closer, he saw that it would heal as a scar. He knew because he had a few of his own, but this scar was nothing like anything Sirius had. This was the mark from a powerful wizard. _Voldemort_, he cursed. Saying the name silently had never been a crime, just be careful saying it aloud. 

Leaning in, Sirius kissed Harry's forehead. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I'll come and get you." A promise he intended on keeping. With simple grace, he gave Harry to Hagrid. He rubbed his eye a bit, and stood up. "Take my motorcycle, it'll be faster."

"Sirius, I coul'nt," Hagrid protested. That motorcycle was Sirius' pride and joy. His most precious possession; Hagrid couldn't just _take_ it from him. Why, that was like stealing candy from a baby. 

"Don't worry, I won't be needing it--just, promise me you'll keep my godson safe." Sirius' largest concern was being taken away from him. Why didn't he fight more? Well, because it was Dumbledore's orders, and he had always trusted his judgement. Besides, nobody was going to take Harry away from him; he wouldn't allow that to happen, not to his best friend's child. 

"I will," Hagrid assured, holding Harry close to his body and mounting the bike. 

Sirius stuffed his hands into his leather jacket and calmly watched Hagrid take off. He watched Hagrid fly higher and farther until at last he was a small speck in the sky. And as natural as ever, he walked away. 

He kicked at a stone. Quietly, he mumbled to himself, "You always were a rat."


	5. Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning

__

Sappy pathetic little me

That was the girl I used to be

You had me on my knees

I'd trade you places any day

I'd never thought you could be that way

But you looked like me on Sunday

You came in with the breeze

On Sunday Morning

You sure have changed since yesterday

Without any warning

Vala had fallen asleep on Sirius' couch as she so often did when she stayed over. Her back ached something terrible, and it was all to blame on the uncomfortable couch. 

"Doesn't take much to please a dog, does it," she grumbled to herself. Because she had began to look upon Sirius as a dog, and for this she had many reasons. Every time he came in from swimming he had a distinct Wet Dog scent about him, which was odd considering he didn't even own a dog. Whenever Sirius ate, he ate like it was his last meal, shoveling large amounts at a time into his mouth. And on the rare occasion when Sirius was angry, he growled much like a dog would. He had the instincts of a dog and always seemed to sense when a storm was brewing or mischief was about; he had unusually good hearing and a sensitive nose. He also didn't mind lumpy and old beaten furniture because as he always put it, _It's better than lying on the floor._ Not that she could ever really figure out why Sirius would sleep on the floor. 

Vala stretched with a groan, and sat up straight. She turned on the Wizarding Wireless Network, hoping to hear "Witchy Woman" by the Eagles, who were actually more popular to the Muggle world than the Wizarding. Instead, she received some unexpected news.

__

"Last night in Godric's Hollow the Dark Lord met his ending. Some debate whether He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has actually died or gone into hiding-" 

Vala turning the volume up, grinning a bit. She didn't even catch the mention of Godric's Hollow, the street the Potters lived on.

__

"The powerful leader met his ending when he attempted to take on a one year old boy by the name of Harry Potter. It is unknown what exactly happened. Unfortunately, Harry's parents, Lily and James Potter, were slain in the incident. Apparently, the Potter's Secret Keeper, Sirius Black, had betrayed them and…"

Vala stared at the radio. "What? Impossible…" But the reporter wasn't finished.

__

"Also, just in… A young wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew was after Black to avenge his friends…" The reporter paused, but continued reluctantly. _"Muggle reports have told us that on a busy London street Pettigrew had accused Black of murdering his friends, but Black killed him with a curse that slaughtered twelve Muggles as well. Shortly later, a highly skilled team working for the Ministry of Magic wiped the Muggle's minds, and swept Sirius off to Azkaban where he's expected to spend the rest of his life. In other news-"_

Vala clicked off the news, she couldn't listen anymore. Then it all hit her: Sirius was in Azkaban, helped Voldemort kill the Potters, and murdered Peter (along with twelve Muggles). She bolted to her feet; she had to get out of his house. She shoved her crossword puzzle book in her hip pocket, and slid her feet into her shoes_. My wand, my wand_, she repeated silently, looking about drastically, pushing things off tables and scattering The Daily Prophet across the floor. Vala had never paid much attention to it before, but Sirius was a pack rat. Small knickknacks and small scraps of papers to newspapers covered every flat surface. He was always afraid he'd need something later on, keeping documents for months. And because of this no one could ever find anything in his house, except Sirius who always seemed to know where everything was. 

Vala found her wand under a Daily Prophet issue dating back to January, and sprinted to the front door. Just as she was reaching for the doorknob someone Apparated unto Sirius' front doorstep. Her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she backed away. It was a man, but not even she could distinguish by the silhouette if she knew him or not. She guessed it must be a Death Eater, coming to clear the dark arts evidence from the flat. Or perhaps it was a member of the Ministry of Magic coming to search what else Sirius may have been hiding. Vala guessed the former; the Ministry must be up to its elbows in work. Before her mind could dart in another direction, and before she had a chance to hide herself, the door opened.

"Vala!" Remus greeted, quietly closing the door behind him. He wore a bright smile, which momentarily hid his weariness. There was a new sadness in his eyes, glazed over by surprise and joy.

Her eyes welled up with tears and she couldn't hold back any longer. "Oh, Remus!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. She shook uncontrollably and tightened her grip on him.

"I was so worried," he breathed, trying to comfort her by rubbing her back. Carefully, he pulled back to look into her eyes. "Sirius is in Azkaban." 

Thick tears rolled down Vala's face and she pulled him back into her. "James and Lily," she whimpered. "Peter too… he never stood a chance. Why, Remus why…" 

"I don't know," he sighed, smoothing back her hair. "There's so many questions."

~+~+~+~

"It truly is beautiful," a man whispered, close to her side. Vala glanced down the length of the Hogwarts Express. Beautiful? She wasn't so sure. This train, this bright red train with its golden rails and padded seats, led her straight to Hogwarts. This train, in all its glory and all its might, was the cause of her stress; her recent cause of anorexia and insomnia. 

Remus had wanted to come, but she refused. She reminded him Voldemort had been destroyed and all his followers found. She assured him she was old enough to take care of herself, and that she'd owl him once she arrived at Hogwarts. It wasn't that she didn't want Remus to come with her, because she did, but he had been up over his head. He needed a break, and he definitely didn't need the pressure of arriving on time. 

"Voldemort," she hissed under her breath, "Damn him…" Unlike most witches, Vala was not afraid to say Voldemort's name aloud. She used to be, but times had changed. She had changed. The name was no longer a source of fear, but rather a well-patted down anger; anger that had grown considerably over the last months. 

The whistle tore through the station. Sighing deeply, she pushed her trolley towards the door, but just as she was about to get on the train she realized something dreadful: she wasn't strong enough to pick up her trunk. She tried not to panic as she searched for her wand, thinking hard of a spell to lighten her load. 

"Nothing fails like physical strength, eh?"

She glanced up, shock written over her face, and saw a man with messy, sandy blonde hair. He was tall and thin and looked about her age. It was quite possible that they were in the same grade; it was damn near impossible to be acquainted with everyone. The whistle blew again, resounding throughout the station and shattering her thoughts. 

"Formal greetings will just have to wait," he said, grabbing one brass handle of her trunk. She nodded and grabbed the other. 

Grant helped her find a seat and pack away her trunk before he even bothered to introduce himself. "The name's Grant O'Neil. I'm Irish and drink too much." Vala hadn't expected such forwardness, and she tilted her head forward in an effort to hide a smile. She hadn't smiled in a long time and she was embarrassed that a stranger had broken the spell. "And who might you be?"

"Vala," she answered quietly

"No last name?" he pressed gently.

She looked up slowly. "Amoureux."

~+~+~+~

In his introduction he had forgotten to mention he talked too much. Vala tried to listen politely, but she spent most of her time staring glassy-eyed out the window. She wasn't ready to make friends. Once she got comfortable with a few they were ripped away from her. She didn't want anymore ties than she already had. A werewolf and a convicted murderer were enough. 

She blinked slowly; the trial had been horrible, and Vala only understood a third of what Remus was going through. She'd only known the Marauders for a couple years, Remus had known them for most of his life. 

Both Remus and Vala refused to testify against Sirius. Instead they sat in the crowd, holding hands like two frightened children. She wasn't necessarily _angry_ with Sirius, but rather disappointed; as if she had expected more from him. _You think you know a guy…_

"And _that's _why I hate porcupines."

Vala's eyes flashed to Grant. "Huh? Oh… um, yeah. I've never been partial to them myself." _What were we talking about?_

"And if you think _that _was interesting wait until you hear about the time I…"

Vala sighed. _Does this kid ever shut up?_


	6. Skating Away on the Thin Ice of a New Da...

Skating Away on the Thin Ice of a New Day

__

Well, do you ever get the feeling

That the story's too damn real

And in the present tense

Or that everybody's on the stage

And it seems like you're the only

Person sitting in the audience

"Murphy, Kevin!" 

Vala sighed and glanced at her watch. _Only half way through the First Years,_ she dragged silently, _what a tedious procedure_. McGonagall stretched the scroll and read another name as the new Ravenclaw stood unsteadily to his feet. Her peers clapped heartily, but sat in a deep trance. Kevin took a seat at her table, and the next First Year was in the midst of her sorting. 

She fidgeted with her fork, waiting impatiently. She wasn't hungry, but it was impolite to excuse yourself from dinner unless the majority of your class had finished eating. The Great Hall was packed with friends she had grown up with, but she wanted nothing more than to get away from them. Losing your family is a hard thing to overcome, but losing your family twice is even harder. 

"Stroer, Fidele!" 

Vala glanced around; had they skipped from M to S, or had she been daydreaming? She had been daydreaming. It wasn't too long before the list was finished, and the stool and hat were swiped from the hall. 

Dumbledore stood proud and tall, he exclaimed a few nonsense words before taking his seat again. _What a foolish man_, she cursed. Once she thought Dumbledore was great. She held him in her highest respects, but her summer had changed that humble opinion significantly. Dumbledore couldn't promise her a better future than anyone else could. He couldn't wipe away her worries and fix her past. And if he couldn't do that then he was nobody special. 

In an instant everyone's golden plate was full of the most scrumptious foods. Everyone's except Vala's… her plate was just as empty as it had been five minutes prier. She received some curious glances and quirking brows before she reached for a roll and began picking lightly at it. She had little if any appetite at all, and it was all caused by an incident that ended her summer. Losing her parents was hard for her, extremely hard, but she had slowly worked her way past it. She still missed them from time to time, but realized nothing could bring them back. When she lost her parents she still had a family. James, Lily, Peter, Sirius and Remus had adopted her. Within days she was theirs, and she loved them, she truly did. What had made her lose sleep and meals was when she lost her second family; the family that had understood her much more than her first. When she thought nothing worse could happen and she was finally safe, she was wrong. 

Her parents' death was clear, they had rejected Voldemort and he slaughtered them. They had died proudly and faithfully; betraying no one. The Potter's death was another story. If the accusations were correct then Sirius had been the Potter's Secret-Keeper and had been in alliance with Voldemort. Sirius had turned the Potter's over, betrayed them, and when Peter tried to justify things Sirius killed him as well; taking a street full of Muggles with him. Sirius' betrayal wasn't the only thing that came out of the Potter's death. Vala had learned secrets about Remus she would never have guessed otherwise. Sometimes she wondered if Sirius had killed her parents as well, but that didn't make any sense. If Sirius was after her parents that night then Remus sure as hell wouldn't have been with him, and she knew Remus was clean. 

Her second family abandoned her just as fast as it adopted her. She still belonged to Remus and he was still hers. He was the only one who hadn't left her; the only one who hadn't betrayed her; the only one who still loved her. She didn't want anyone else. She didn't want to be so tied to someone that it hurt when they left. She was afraid to love because once she loved someone they were taken away from her, and she couldn't handle that anymore.

Vala sighed. Long ago, her father used to tell her stories about princesses and princes and dragons and werewolves and gods and fairies, and she had dreams… she thought about happy endings. All her life all she ever wanted was a happy ending to her fairy tale of a life. When were things finally going to look up? Hadn't she suffered enough? When was she going to get her fairy tale ending? 

She picked absent mindedly at her biscuit, calling little attention to herself. Anyone who had known her noticed a change. She wasn't the same person she was, and they all suspected why. Many people died in those days, but none of them went unnoticed. They knew she lost her parents, and they figured she was still upset about the incident. She noticed their inquiring glances, but paid them little mind. She knew what they thought, but not even they knew the truth. 

Her eyes glided atop the heads of chattering students and rested gently on Saxon's face. She had seen him once during the summer, and vowed never to speak to him again. Two pale blue eyes met her contact. Her hands fidgeted and she dropped her roll, averting her eyes quickly. Saxon had changed, and now they both seemed doomed, if not for different reasons.

~+~+~+~

Vala walked wearily up the winding stairs leading to the Owlery. Her lack of an appetite was starting to take its toll on her. When you forget to eat and sleep, your mind begins to play games on you. She was hungry, but she couldn't even think about eating. She was tired, but she couldn't even think about sleeping. Was this the price she had to pay? After all, it was her fault Sirius had left. It was her fault that Sirius had killed the Potters, Peter, and twelve Muggles… all the innocent lives weighed upon her. And, by default, it was her fault that Sirius was in Azkaban. She let down more than Remus, James, Lily, and Peter… she let down herself, and that was the hardest to accept of them all. If she had only watched him more closely then she may have realized how destructive he was. If only she had seen his cruelty, his hidden wickedness before. Maybe then she could have saved him, brought him to the light before he handed the Potters over, before he betrayed his friends, before he killed Peter… Sure, The Dark Lord would still be reigning and slaughtering and damaging, but she would still have her family. She was greedy, she knew it, but she didn't care. 

She ran her hand against the rough wall of the castle for balance. The higher she climbed, the wearier she became. Her head began to swirl and she fell into the wall. She passed a hand over her eyes, trying hard to push the thought away. Her frail figure quivered, but she remembered. The scene, though over a month ago, was still fresh in her mind…

__

"Vala! It's all right, stop this…" She felt someone holding her shoulders tightly, and shaking her. 

"No, no…" Her eyes flashed open, and she found Sirius' face inches from her own. Her eyes watered and she pulled him into a hug. "It's not all right," she cried into his shoulder. "You'll leave me… both of you." Her eyes flickered to Remus. "You'll leave me just like everything else I've ever loved." 

"No, that will never happen, Vala. Never," Sirius reassured. 

Vala bit her lip and loosened her grip on Sirius. Remus was kneeling at her side, and she slowly reached out to him. He smiled warmly, and she pulled him closer. She held them by their necks; crying hard into Remus' shoulder. "Don't you ever leave me… Don't you ever."

That's when she broke. She crumbled to the floor, crying bitterly. The one who had held her… the one who was the first to make the promise was the first to break it. She had trusted him, even loved him. And to think she actually thought she knew him…

She almost wished someone would interrupt her, ask her why she was crying; make her stop, for embarrassment surely would've put a stop to her childish weeping. Most people would think she was mourning for the loss of her parents, which was a great loss indeed and a cause of her depression, but that wasn't the only reason. 

Her crying ceased to short, jagged sobs, and then to sniffles. She wiped her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her robe, and pulled herself to her feet. _That's enough_, she told herself, _he's gone, let him go_. They were only thoughts, but the more she thought about it the more she took it to heart. She didn't need Sirius; she didn't need anyone. People were unreliable, and she couldn't depend on anyone. She was her own best friend, and only she could control her future. She was too dependent on those around her. It was her fault that she was lost. Nobody else could help her now. 

It was then that she vowed she would be independent. With her new attitude towards life she ran up the remaining steps, scrawled a quick letter, and sent an owl off to Remus. 

~+~+~+~

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you." 

Vala blinked painfully as she heard Geneva's voice. She knew it had been a mistake to leave the common room. Her gaze lifted from her book and fell upon Geneva and Bill. Geneva took a seat next to her and Bill sat down across from them. 

"How have you been, Vala?" Bill asked. 

She turned her attention back to her book and answered, "I've been fine… and you?" 

"Well, I've been all right."

"Good to hear," she said blandly. 

Geneva began introducing Bill to a new spell she had been practicing, and Bill told about Peeves latest pranks; apparently he nailed a number of first years with stink bombs. Silently, Vala wondered why they were there. They had greeted her as if they were looking for her, but now they spoke to each other as if she wasn't even there. She wanted to believe she was still compassionate and loving, but it wasn't so. She had slowly grown cold and unemotional. Very few people were worth her time and she was dedicated to her studies. 

"Weasley, spare us." An icy voice broke in. 

Vala glanced up to see Saxon Malfoy. He and Vala had gotten back together. She'd dismissed the accounts of the past summer; acting as if nothing unordinary had happened. Saxon was stronger, slicker, and lovelier. All the girls in her grade hated to admit it, but he was absolutely gorgeous. He was so dark, so daring, and so incredibly sexy. He was also an incredible jerk. If anyone was colder than Vala, it was Saxon. He sensed her gaze and directed his pale blue eyes to acknowledge her. She turned away to pack up her few things, and stood up. Saxon handed her bag to one of his many followers, and together they exited the Library. 

Though dating, things had changed immensely between the two. Vala never got the warm, fuzzy feeling she used to get when Saxon kissed her, and his eyes were no longer loving and caring. All his actions seemed formal and impersonal. She wasn't his friend anymore; she was something to own. 

But she liked things the way they were. She wasn't in love with Saxon. This way, if anything happened to Saxon she didn't care, and if he was upset with her she simply dismissed it. And when she dated Saxon, no other man would call on her, so she never had the threat of falling in love again.

Saxon slipped an arm around Vala's waist and pulled her close. "I thought I told you to keep away from them," he snarled quietly. 

Vala glared at him; she may have liked the way things were, but she still hated his demands. "I think I can take care of myself." 

The arm on her waist tightened. "I will decide that." He motioned to one of his cronies, and she was directed into an empty classroom. The door, she was sure, was bard shut by two of his friends, and now she was left alone with Saxon. "Listen to me, Vevila, I've had just about enough of your snarky remarks… I have enough pressure breathing down my neck without you socializing with Mudbloods and Muggle lovers. Let alone you snapping off to me." She stood quietly by the window, ignoring everything he had to say. He was angered that she, a woman, would dare ignore him, and quickly closed in for the kill. "Are you listening to a word I'm saying?" he growled, grabbing her wrist. 

Lazily, Vala glanced at him. Maybe it was worth listening to him, but she doubted it. She was tired of hearing his constant complaining, and honestly, she didn't care anymore. He still held her wrist, but she acted as if she hadn't noticed. Enraged, he lifted his hand and slapped her. Instinctively, she jerked her hand away from him and slipped across the room. 

_It's funny how quickly things change,_ she thought, _and I've let myself down again._

She had promised herself she was a new person, but time had passed and she was back to where she started. She _belonged_ to Saxon. She promised herself she would never let that happen again. She was her own person, and she didn't need anyone. 

"Vala, you must understand," he began with a new, smooth voice, advancing slowly on her. His voice was like silk, wrapping itself around her, and she listened. "I only want to protect you, you know that…" 

"No," she whispered faintly.

"What was that?" He asked, extending an ear as if he cared.

She slowly rose her head and glared at him. "No, I don't. You never wanted to help me… you only want to control me! But I've had enough of it, I won't take it from you anymore."

He advanced quickly and deadly. She attempted to fend him off, but he grabbed her arms and hissed like the snake he was. "I'd hate to see anything happen to that uncle of yours." She stared at him perplexed; she didn't have an uncle… "Yes, I know all about Remus Lupin. I know your secret relation." His face moved closer to hers. "And I know that he's the only person you care about. I'd hate for him to, oh I don't know… turn up dead. He is, after all, a werewolf… and everyone knows someone as dangerous as he is in league with Voldemort."

She inhaled sharply. He was playing at more than her life now, and that frightened her. For the first time in months she actually cared about what he had to say. "Say you're sorry, Vala… say you're sorry for disobeying me. Say you'll love me, and marry me… and we can forget that this ever happened." She was trapped, and his smirk grew wider because he knew it. Even if she managed to get away from him again, she would never get out of the room. And if she succeeded in that, Remus' life was still at stake. His grip tightened. "Say it, Vala."

She bowed her head in defeat. Even she, as stubborn as they come, knew she had lost. "Leave him alone… and you can have me." She knew Voldemort was in hiding if not dead, but the Ministry still didn't know who was against them, and Remus' record wasn't exactly clean. Not only was he a werewolf, but one of his best friends ended up being Voldemort's most faithful supporter. All his life he had been shunned and he, of all people, never deserved this. She pitied Remus, and now she feared for him. But… if she could take his place, relieve some of his pain… she would. And now she was finally given the chance. Her promise was broken. Her life was over before it even started… but at least Remus was safe. 

"But of course… Now, that wasn't so hard was it?" He asked with the air of someone speaking to a small child. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. "We can forget all about this now… just remember our agreement and everything will be just fine."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because I can have anything I desire, and I want you… Besides, you know too much already, and I can't have the evidence of your death on my hands… They always say, keep your enemies closer than your friends." 


	7. Little

Little

__

Little minds let little games burn big old dreams with little flames,  
and you don't think I understand.  
Little holes in parachutes won't leave you falling,  
if they do, it's because you want to land.   


"No, tilt your wand down more, and don't flick as jerkily."

"Sorry, lassie."

She pulled away from him and snapped, "I told you not to call me that, you git. It makes me feel like that bloody Muggle dog."

"I'm not familiar," he whispered, concentrating hard. 

When Professor McGonagall asked Vevila to tutor someone in Transfiguration she never imagined it'd be Grant O'Neil; the most obnoxious Irishman she knew. Not only was his happy-go-lucky attitude annoying, but the fact that he insisted on calling her 'lassie' or 'lass' was enough to push her over the edge. 

"My name is Vevila, and if you call me lassie one more time I'll hex you."

"Is this correct?" he asked, pointing his wand at the table. 

He looked up for her approval, and she smacked her forehead. "Not _that_ down." 

"Show me then," Grant insisted. 

Vevila sighed; sometimes she felt like he over did things to annoy her. Regardless, she moved behind him and wrapped her arms around him. In this position she could better see at his height, but she suspected Grant liked it for other reasons. Holding his wand hand she directed it to face the grape. "You have to make sure you point your wand at the object you're transfiguring." Though smart, she could never teach. She lost her patience too quickly, and all the questions Grant asked seemed self-explanatory. 

"Now think about what you're trying to transfigure it into… in this case it's a bottle of perfume."

"Can it smell like grape?"

"I don't care much what it smells like… Just make it pleasant or McGonagall will take off." She was loosing her patience and the feeling in her legs. Grant was sitting down and she was in an awkward position behind him, holding his wand hand steadily. 

"Didn't she say she wanted it to smell like grape?"

Vevila sighed sharply, "I don't _care _what it smells like! Just transfigure it into a bottle of perfume!"

There was an explosion, and Grant jumped back, smacking into Vevila. She managed to catch her balance, saving Grant's at the same time. She batted the smoke away from the table, squinting to see if he'd finally succeeded. "Damn it, Grant!" She smacked the back of his head. "That's the sixteenth time, and we don't have any more grapes!" 

"Sorry, lassie," he apologized, rubbing the back of his head. 

She cast a threatening glance at him, then looked back to the table. She shook her head, and shoved her wand into the belt of her robes. "I've had enough for one day. We'll pick up lessons again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Grant looked horrified, "But our test is tomorrow!"

Vevila shrugged her shoulders, and turned to leave. "It looks like you'll be failing then."

He grabbed her arm before she could leave and pleaded, "No… I promise I'll try harder. I can't afford to fail this exam… please?" 

Vala nearly rejected him, but she couldn't. What was a little less sleep? The tutoring was, after all, another excuse to avoid Saxon. She wiped her forehead. "Fine, go get the grapes. I'll wait here for you." 

Grant's face lightened up and he smiled graciously, "Thank you, thank you! You won't regret this, lassie!" 

"And stop calling me lassie!" yelled at his retreating back. She glanced at her watch and cringed. _It's going to be a long night…_

~+~+~+~

"Make sure you're pointing directly at it… Okay, now say the spell and gently flick your wrist," Vala instructed.

Grant followed her carefully. "Point, speak, flick," he mumbled to himself. A small burst of smoke erupted, but quickly disappeared. 

Vala couldn't help but cheer, "Yes! Excellent!" The grape had been successfully transfigured into a bottle of perfume. Grant leapt in the air cheering, and the two briefly engaged in a victory dance. "Okay, okay…" she said, the two ushering back to the table. "Now this time when you transfigure it concentrate hard on making the bottle red instead of purple. And instead of grape scented make it apple. Remember… not too strong or thick."

He pointed at a new grape, whispering to himself, "Point, speak, flick…" Red smoke enveloped the grape and when it disappeared the grape was exchanged for a small square bottle. Vala picked it up and sprayed it unto to herself. "Mmm… That smells excellent. Not too faint, not too strong… Just perfect," she complimented. She handed the bottle back to Grant, "Congratulations on your successfully transfigured grape. Now maybe you'll receive a passing grade."

Grant smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling with tears. He pulled Vala into a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you!" he whispered exuberantly into her hair. Words couldn't express the gratitude he felt towards her.

Vala was a bit shocked. She wasn't accustomed to such emotions. Awkwardly, she patted his back. "It was nothing… don't worry about it." She struggled to look at her watch without disrupting Grant's display of affection, but pushed him away when she spotted the time. "Merlin's beard! Grant, we have to go! It's O-Two-Hundred!"

"It's what?" he asked, tilting his head. 

She hit his shoulder, "Two A.M.!" 

Grant smacked his forehead, but turned back to the table and shoved all the grapes and disfigured perfume bottles into his bag. Vala slid her wand back into the belt of her robes, and tugged on his hand. "We have to go _now!_" 

He threw his bag over his shoulder, and let Vala lead him from the room. "Okay, we'll make it to the painting of the warlock together, but at that point you'll have to escape down the staircase and to the dungeons while I sprint up the other to the third floor."

"Okay," he agreed.

The two walked briskly from the room, listening carefully, and holding hands. At each corner Vala would stop and make sure the coast was clear. They had two near run ins with Filch, but managed to sneak by unnoticed. At the painting of the warlock they wished each other luck and split. 

Vala made it up the staircase safely, but just as she was turning the last corner she saw an unwelcoming sight: the back of Professor Severus Snape. She gasped, but she figured he hadn't noticed and she tried to slip back behind the corner. 

"Out after hours I see, Miss. Amoureux."

Vala cringed. Snape had called her by her last name, and above all, he'd caught her. "It's pronounced Am-or-oh," she corrected, facing him slowly. It was a French name, and often mispronounced. 

"I don't much care how it's pronounced," he snapped. 

She never did understand Snape. She had never harmed in any way, or given him a reason to feel threatened. It was as if he simply didn't like her. "I'm horribly sorry, sir… You see, I was helping a student-"

"How very convenient," he cut her off. "And what may I ask were you really doing?"

"Honestly," she protested. "I was asked to tutor a student, and I was simply helping him to understand something."

"So late?" He rose an eyebrow skeptically, "I hadn't realized tutoring ran so late."

She'd always hated Snape in a certain light. He'd always taken advantage of his position in authority. She was sure that if Snape knew she was dating Saxon Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy of her day, that he'd let her off clean. 

"Well," she began slowly, choosing her words carefully. "My close friend Grant O'Neil didn't quite understand a lesson in Transfiguration, and rather than let him fail the test we're having later on today I tutored him until he completely understood it. I don't know," she shrugged her shoulder, "I thought receiving a high grade and possibly even points for his House was more important than sleep." There always were advantages to having connections in the Slytherin House when it came to Snape. 

"Is that so?" he asked, his fierceness dulling. 

"Yes, it is," she replied, glancing at her watch. "It's a shame really that we ran so late… Saxon was hoping to speak with me. We do, after all, have some important issues to discuss." She sighed softly and lied, "He really is a wonderful man. I believe I could spend my life with him…" She looked back at Snape and waved a hand with a light laugh, "But why am I telling you all about this? Surely, you're not interested in Saxon and I."

"Very well then," he pointed at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. "Get back to your dorm, and don't let me catch you out this late again." 

Vevila was cheering inside, but she would never let it show through. She always had been a remarkable actress, and she'd just made Snape believe she was in love with Saxon. She nodded her head, and walked up the last, short staircase. She whispered the password, and sighed softer to herself. It was sad really, she was marrying a man she didn't love. _I guess we all make sacrifices for those we love…_

~+~+~+~

"You poor thing."

Vala poked her head out from behind a corner and stared curiously at a girl. She rose an eyebrow and asked, "Who are you talking to?" The girl pointed to Mrs. Norris, who was sitting next to her on the steps. Vala stared at the girl. "Come again?"

"Mrs. Norris," she repeated.

"But… she's a cat." Vala stepped out from behind the corner. 

Mrs. Norris glared at her, and the girl nodded, stroking the cat's silken head. "It's all right… She doesn't understand."

Vala stared at her a little more. "What's there to understand? She's just a dumb cat." 

The girl rolled her eyes, and Vala finally noticed that she bore a Hufflepuff badge. _Figures. _"She's not a cat," the Hufflepuff defended.

"Oh really? Then what is she?"

"She's a Pillywiggan!" 

"A Pilly-what?" Vala drew closer, taking a seat on the step next to the Hufflepuff.

"A Pillywiggan," she whispered. "It's a type of fairy… They're capable of size and color."

"So she's a fairy acting like a cat?"

"Not quite," the girl explained patiently. "She used to be the size of my thumb, but then she met a human and they fell in love." She turned to the cat, who sat listening at her elbow, and said, "Correct me if I'm wrong." The cat nodded and the girl continued, "Since she's a Pillywiggan she's capable of multiple sizes… so she took on the height of her lover. Her parents were angry with her, and they told her she was making a mistake, but she wouldn't listen and chose to live with him. She used to live inside flowers and such, and often missed them, but she loved him too much…"

Vala glanced at the cat and asked, "So who was this man she was in love with?"

The Hufflepuff smiled. "Argus Filch."

Vala was a little shocked. Of all people, she expected Filch to be the least romantic. "Filch? Wow… I never knew, but it certainly explains a lot."

The Hufflepuff nodded and continued, "Pillywiggans are also known for switching bodies with their cats. Raissa-"

"Wait," Vala interrupted, "Who's Raissa?"

"Raissa, Raissa Gener… That was Mrs. Norris' name before she was stuck inside a cat's body," the Hufflepuff explained as if it were common sense.

"Oh, okay… Go on."

"As I was saying, Raissa had a white cat. Now the thing is… when a Pillywiggan changes bodies with a cat, if the Pillywiggan damages that body in any way, shape, or form… she's stuck in that body forever." The Hufflepuff pointed to a small cut on the cat's ear; something Vala had failed to notice before. "We suspect the cat wanted out of her body and wanted the body of a fairy… however, since she's not a Pillywiggan her skin is permanently white and she'll remain the same size for as long as she lives. We believe the cat sabotaged Raissa by sending an Albatross after her… The bird, which could _eat_ a cat, only managed to bite her ear. And though the damage was small, it was still damage, so Raissa's been stuck in this body ever since."

"But you said the cat was white, so why isn't she white?"

"Because Raissa is a Pillywiggan and can change her color according to her surroundings. She's almost always in the castle, and so her colors are blacks and grays," the Hufflepuff explained.

"Okay, but why is she called Mrs. Norris and not Raissa Gener?"

"Because Norris means caretaker, and she was supposed to marry Filch." 

"Oh… and why are you telling me all this?"

The Hufflepuff looked to Raissa. "Well, she thought you should know."

Vala was perplexed. "Why did she want me to know?"

The Hufflepuff stood up. "I'm unsure… she couldn't really explain it to me." She offered a hand to Vala, "By the way… My name's Fae Mortel."

"Oh," she replied, taking Fae's hand. "My name's Vala Amoureux." 

"Is that French?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. 

"Unfortunately."

Fae looked back to Raissa and waved, "I'll talk to you later. Take care of yourself." The cat bowed its head, and walked away, flicking its tail along the way.

"There's one more thing I don't understand," Vala admitted. "Why is she against the student body?"

Fae glanced at her. "She's not. She loves Filch, and wants to help him in any way that she can… She feels horrible that she ever got stuck in a cat's body. Kind of like she ruined their lives and now she has to make it up to him."

"Oh, but why did she ever switch bodies with the cat?"

Fae stopped walking and stood thoughtfully. "You know… She hasn't told me yet."


	8. Let Go

Let Go

__

i know you'll never lose  
what's lost inside you  
you're burning down the bridges  
you've crossed  
and you're still around  
so nothing's certain  
just let go  
we deserve it  


Vala sat nervously in The Three Broomsticks, waiting impatiently for Remus to arrive. She'd sent a letter asking him to come on that exact date and time. She checked her watch for the twelfth time, and hissed, "Where is he?" She didn't doubt he'd arrive, but she hated that he was half an hour late.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, bending low to greet her. However, she was turning in her seat at the same time, and they smacked foreheads. 

"Ouch!" they exclaimed in unison. Vala backed away from him, rubbing her forehead. "Watch it, Remus," she scolded. 

He took the seat across from her, rubbing his forehead in the process. "Some impact there." Vala had really missed Remus, and she had to restrain herself from hugging him; he never had been good with emotions. 

"Why did you ask me to come here?" he asked, sipping his Butterbeer

She hesitated but chose to take the most direct path. "I'm getting married, Remus."

Remus spit his Butterbeer back into his glass. "You're what?" he sputtered. 

Vala leaned forward, placing her hand over Remus'. "Saxon and I… we're getting married the winter after we finish our seventh year."

"That's only a year away… You'll barely be seventeen!" Stress crinkled on Remus' forehead, and Vala had to turn away. It'd only been a few months since the incident, and Remus was aging faster than the average man. There was a sadness in his eyes that'd never been there before, and it made her want to cry. 

"Remus, please," she pleaded, tears stinging her eyes. She couldn't bear to see him in pain. She was doing this for him… was he really allowed to complain? 

He placed his other hand over hers. "Is this what you really want?" he asked softly.

She nodded and closed her eyes. Quietly she half-lied, "Yes."

"Then I will be there for you." She knew he meant to be there for every milestone in her life. He was her family, and he'd be there for everything. 

Vala looked back and smiled at him. She then stood up, walked around the table, and sat down next to him. "Thank you," she whispered, moving into a hug. _If only he knew,_ she thought silently, tears sticking to her lashes. She held Remus possessively, protecting him from all unseen threats. 

"Just don't set it on a full moon. I hate full moons."

She smiled and replied, "I would never do that to you." 

"Also," he began jokingly, "I want lupins at your wedding."

"Of course!" she laughed lightly. 

~+~+~+~

"And what type of flowers would you like?" The director asked, pushing up her purple framed glasses. She wore long, deep purple robes with large, voluminous sleeves. 

"Dead roses, black."

Vala stared at Saxon. They'd been at the Wedding Director's office all day, and he'd been answering every question darkly. If it wasn't dead, it spit poison, or ate live chickens every hour. 

Vala shook her head and corrected, "We want lupins. Preferably pastel." And Vala thought it could get no worse after Saxon had suggested they leave on a dragon, a Hungarian Horntail, none the less. 

"No, we want dead, black roses," Saxon reaffirmed.

Vala turned back to him and argued, "I thought we already discussed this. My uncle wants lupins at the wedding, and I promised him they would be there." 

"I don't care what your uncle wants. I want dead black roses."

"And I want lupins. You're not the only one getting married; it's my wedding too." 

"Are you sure you two should be getting married?" The director asked, eyeing them wryly. The two claimed they were in love, but they argued about everything. The director was skeptical, and wondered where they might find someone to say the mass for them. If, that is, they planned on marrying in a church. "We can get back to the flowers… When are you planning to get married?"

"Next Winter," Vala replied; sure that Saxon wouldn't disagree. 

"Do you have a date?" 

"Yes, December 23rd," Saxon specified. 

"No, I told you I wouldn't get married on the night of a full moon." 

He groaned, "Don't be so childish… It's not as if werewolves will be out."

She crossed her arms and objected, "I don't care. It's not happening." 

"Do you have to be so difficult?" he growled. 

"Okay, winter's fine… we can talk about dates later," the director assured, trying to break the rising tension. "What about a cake?" 

"I want it in the shape of a snake eating a raven… black icing and red filling," Saxon said without hesitation.

The director moved her quill jerkily. "Okay… a little unusual, but the groom's cake is always a bit off."

"I was talking about the wedding cake," Saxon corrected.

"Oka-ay…" she replied, scribbling what she'd written.

"A snake eating a raven?" Vala interrupted, "That's disgusting. I will not have anyone cutting into a cake that looks like it's bleeding." She looked to the director. "Do you possibly have a book of cakes I can glance through?"

"I want a snake eating a raven. Black icing, red filling," Saxon insisted. 

"I don't care; it's not going to happen," Vala confirmed. 

The director slammed her portfolio. "Has it ever occurred to either of you that you may be too young to get married?" She looked piercingly at Saxon and then at Vala. "All you have done is argue, and you cannot agree upon anything. Do you know what I have so far? You're getting married in winter. Nothing else!" She stood up and finished, "We have gotten no where, and this has been a waste of my time. Now get out of my office, and come back when you've made up your mind." 

The next second they were ushered out of her office. "Never have I seen a more incompatible couple… I give my pity to any children you may have." With that she slammed the door, and left Saxon and Vala standing in the hallway, left to their own thoughts.

"You know," Vala begin. "We've been going to a different wedding director all this month, and we are no closer to getting married than we were then."

"She's going to pay for that little comment," Saxon sneered, walking away. 

Vala rolled her eyes; her fiancé was a walking disaster. If someone so much as said a cross word against him, he threatened his or her life. 

Vala didn't want to get married; she was still a child in her eyes. However, she knew she didn't have much of a choice. "Saxon?" She called, running up along side him. "If we're going to get married, we might as well make it mentionable. I'm sick of the embarrassment." She stopped him, "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I am… and I agree, but it seems our ideas of mentionable differ," he replied, looking at her. 

"Apparently," she said shortly. "But this isn't a Halloween party, this is a Wedding. I don't want anything dead or deadly."

"I thought a full moon was romantic," he countered.

"Yes, and it is, but you know about my uncle," she ended in a whisper. "He is a very important part of my life, and I would like him to be there." 

"Very well, and what was wrong with the cake? It wasn't dead or deadly."

Vala rolled her eyes again. "Honestly, Saxon… do you think that's appropriate? I am, however, curious of the connection you made. A snake eating a raven? I couldn't help but notice I'm a Ravenclaw and you're a Slytherin." 

Saxon shrugged his shoulders, "I thought it was a good idea."

"Well, I didn't." She jabbed a finger into his ribcage. "You're the one who's insisted on getting married, so start taking it seriously. I know this is just one of your bloody games, but I will not be the laughing stock of my own wedding." She didn't know why she cared so much; she didn't even want to marry Saxon. She supposed she realized this would be her only wedding, and she wanted it to be an unfolding fairy tale; regardless of Prince Charming's absence. 

~+~+~+~

"What's this?" 

Vala glanced up from her studies. "What's it look like?"

"A rose… but who's it from?"

Vala shuffled busily through some papers, and came up with the notes she was looking for. "Who do you think?" She scanned the notes and groaned, "Ugh, I forgot to write down his name…"

"Are we playing twenty questions?" Grant asked sarcastically. 

"I was just about to ask you that…" she trailed, searching through her notes. She glanced up momentarily. "Who killed Orion?" 

"Well, that depends on what story you're going by," Grant replied, examining the rose.

"Um, not the one where Diana hit him… The one where Apollo sent someone after him."

Grant was still staring at the rose thoughtfully when he answered, "That someone would be Scorpius, and there's two ending with him. There's the one where Apollo fears for his sister's chastity, and then there's the other where Orion is an egotistical jerk… hmm, sounds like someone I know. Got any idea where I can find a scorpion?" 

Vala looked up at him. "You're talking about my fiancé again." She grabbed the rose from him, cutting herself on a thorn. "Damn it Grant, there's probably some deadly poison in those thorns." 

Grant shrugged. "I could rid you of all your worries for a hefty fee."

"I bet you could, you blood thirsty git." She set down the rose, and sucked on her finger. Vala didn't know why she told Grant about Saxon and she; no one else, save Remus, knew. 

"Why are you getting married again?"

Vala went back to scribbling down notes, and answered off-handedly, "Because we're in love… why else?"

"Yes, too bad it's not convincing," he countered. 

Her quill stopped, but she picked it up again; why did she bother lying? He already knew. But Grant was a pest, or so she liked to believe. As many times as she denied it, she actually liked Grant. When everything else in her life was strict and serious Grant was her escape. He always had random thoughts to share, and amusing ideas to engage. He had a certain way with people, and that made Vala laugh because no other Slytherin did. 

"Very well, we can bring up the subject another time," he said.

"We always do," she agreed. 

~+~+~+~

Vala walked quietly down the halls of the third floor. She wasn't due to a class for another hour and a half, so she was spending her time exploring the castle. Suddenly, something soft rubbed up against her leg. Instinctively, she jumped to the side. She looked down and connected eyes with Mrs. Norris. 

"Why hello, Raissa," she greeted, bending to pet the cat. Raissa purred in gratitude, and arched her back in delight. Vala giggled before she could contain herself; it was so odd to think Mrs. Norris really wasn't a cat. "How many people know about you?" she asked, referring to Raissa's real background. 

The cat blinked, and looked down at the ground. She extended a paw and padded four strikes. 

"Ah, let me guess… There's me, Fae, I should hope Filch as well, and…" The cat nodded in agreement. Vala stared down at her. "And I can't think of the fourth." The cat nodded towards someone Vala had failed to notice standing nearby. 

"I see Raissa's told you her little secret."

She looked up into the soft blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Anyone else and she would have been embarrassed. She was, after all, talking to a cat; or what appeared to be a cat. She was, however, lost for words. She still wasn't very fond of him, nor was she angry with him. He was… just another person on her road of life. She stood up slowly, staring questionably at Dumbledore. 

"Why don't you walk with me, Vevila?" 

She gulped and squeaked, "Okay." 

"Don't worry… you're not in trouble," he smiled. 

The two began walking down the hall followed by Mrs. Norris. "Raissa and I were talking-"

"You can talk to her?" she interrupted. 

"Yes, she isn't any ordinary cat, you know."

"Yes, I am quite aware of that, but I can't talk to her, so…"

"Do not always assume the obvious, Vala." He smiled and continued, "Raissa and I were talking the other day, and she brought forth a concern of hers. Since she cannot speak to you she asked me to say it." 

Vala's pace slowed. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice cracking lightly. 

He went on as if he hadn't noticed, "First you must understand that I'm speaking for Raissa, and I'm not entirely sure why she insists on telling you this." Vala nodded her approval, and he continued, "You've been told why Raissa is stuck in a cat's body, but you haven't been told why she ever switched bodies with a cat. The truth is, she feared Argus was unfaithful, and her cat convinced her to switch bodies so she could spy on him. That was the same day an Albatross attacked her, and she escaped with a scratch on the ear."

"Excuse me, Headmaster, I don't mean to interrupt, but… I don't believe I'm following. Why is it important that you tell me this?"

Dumbledore stopped patiently and stared down at Raissa. "I'm unsure… she believed it was important that you know. May I continue?"

"Yes."

"Raissa spied on Argus, and realized he hadn't been cheating on her, but it didn't matter. She was stuck in a cat's body for as long as she lived, and nothing could change that. She'd ruined everything they'd had over a suspicion." He bent to pick up the cat, stroking it gently he finished, "Nothing can save this one, but she said she wanted to save another from becoming blind." Raissa meowed, and Dumbledore added, "Don't let suspicions interfere; trust the one you love." He then set Raissa down, who rubbed up against his leg before leaving. 

The conversation was uncomfortable, and Vala couldn't figure out whom Raissa was referring to. Was it Remus or Saxon? "Excuse me, Headmaster?" 

He smiled and responded, "Yes?"

"I couldn't help but notice that Fae Mortel, a Hufflepuff, could also speak to Mrs. Nor- I mean Raissa. Is there… something wrong with me?" 

"Not at all," he answered gently, "She can speak to few. Not even Argus and she can talk, but there are several forms of communication, and they manage. Fae Mortel happens to be an exception to this rule."

"How so?" Vala asked curiously.

"That is not something for me to release… Perhaps if she sees it fit she will tell you."


	9. Enter the Young

Enter the Young

__

Here they come, yeah

Some are laughing, some are crying

Here they come

And some are doing, some are trying

Some are selling, some are buying

Some are living, some are dying

But demanding recognition one by one

"Why are you so glum? You're young, live it up!"

Vala sat silently as she studied. She ran a hand through her hair and complained, "I've told you once before…"

"Yes, but I've forgotten. Please remind me."

She slapped her Transfiguration book, her eyes flickering at Grant. "Exams are in a week. Must you insist on being a nuisance?" 

"And Christmas vacation is in a week. How can you sit still?" He bounced in his seat, tapping his quill on the table. 

She sighed and shook her head; _some people are just so stupid…_ But she wouldn't let that interfere with her studies. The tapping continued… Slowly, she directed her eyes to him. Grant had somewhere along the line acquired another quill and played them like a Muggle instrument. Rat-a-tap-tap, rat-a-tap-tap; it had a beat, but that didn't make it any less annoying. "Grant!" she shrieked. "Knock it off!"

He stared at her innocently, and pointed to himself. "Me?" 

She rolled her eyes. _Yes, because you're so easily confused with the other Grants in the room… _Speaking of the room, they were locked inside an empty classroom, the Charms classroom to be more specific. On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays they met in the Charms classroom; on Wednesdays and Sundays they met in the Transfiguration classroom. Vevila refused to see Grant on her Saturdays, and on Fridays she strolled through the Forbidden Forest with Saxon. 

Saturdays were her favorite. Each Saturday she'd lay in bed until the clock struck twelve; she wasn't sleeping, she was recollecting herself. At 12:30, when most people were at lunch, she'd sneak down to the kitchens. By 1:00 she was back in her dorm, curled up by the window eating a biscuit or a cookie. Sometimes she managed to bring back a glass of milk, as she never cared much for pumpkin juice. About 2:00 she'd crawl back under the covers and lay there, either sleeping or thinking, until midnight. Once the clock had finally reached midnight she'd slip out of the common room and explore the castle alone. 

Saturdays also meant she didn't have to enter the Forbidden Forest for another week. The Forbidden Forest wasn't so horrible by itself; it was Saxon. He'd always insist they walk to the center, and there he'd try to frighten her with stories and tricks. She still hadn't quite recovered from the decapitated chicken, which ran aimlessly for several minutes until it's nerves died. 

Vevila was glad she was going home for Christmas; she really needed a break from school, Grant, and most of all, Saxon. Though, she was afraid to see Remus. She wasn't sure how she might act around him. Remus knew her better than Grant, and even he had figured out what was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, he'd believe her lies until it was time for her to leave. 

Vala was taking notes from a thick Astronomy book with a glossy cover when Grant asked, "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Her quill stopped scratching and bled black ink unto her scroll. "Don't be silly," she mumbled, frowning at the ink splotch. 

"Vala," he addressed, leaning forward. "Has anyone ever told you that they couldn't live without you. That you were their breath, and their life was meaningless without you?"

"I haven't time for this," she said sternly, refusing to look at him. She had work to do, and she didn't intend on playing his mind games. 

"Do you fulfill a place in someone's heart like no other?" he pressed, "Would someone rather die than live a day without you? Are you someone's sun and moon, day and ni-"

"What are you playing at?" she demanded, glaring at him. "Are you trying to upset me?"

"Not at all," he smiled, sitting back. He crossed his legs and shrugged. "I was just curious why you were getting married." 

Her mouth parted as she stared at Grant; he'd caught her. Now, whether she told him or not, he knew the truth. She bowed her head, and her skin whitened. "I… I don't have a choice," she muttered, her hair falling to curtain her face. She buried her face into her hands and sighed. _How do I get myself into these things…?_

Grant crossed his arms, a frown placed on his face. "Of course you have a choice. No one ca-"

"No, I don't!" she shrieked impatiently, the tears visible. "Do you honestly think I want to get married at the age of seventeen? I'm a child, Grant. A child!" 

His face whitened, and his negotiating façade fell. "Vala, I-" 

She whipped furiously at the traitorous tears. "Is that what you wanted Grant, to see me cry? To see me break and fall? Well, there you have it!" She stood up and tried to gather her belongings. Her hands moved clumsily with jerky spurts as she tried to collect loose papers and quills. She was flustered, and honestly, she was sick of breaking. She was so sick of hiding and lying. All her emotions were locked up and it was killing her. "So you've finally proven it. I'm not as strong as I like to appear- and let go of me!" Grant had his hands placed sternly on her shoulders, and though she fought against him he wouldn't budge. 

"Vevila, listen to me." He gently forced her back into her seat. "I never said that you were weak, and I never wanted to see you cry." He sat down next to her, but didn't remove his hand from her shoulder. "We all have our secrets, and some of those secrets are better left unsaid… I understand that. Everyone has nightmares and everyone has fears… but there are some things that we should confide in a friend. Certain things will rip you up inside, and eventually they can destroy you. Sometimes we need help from outside." Grant removed his hand from her shoulder, and slowly rolled up the sleeves of his robes. 

Vevila refused to take her eyes from his; she wanted to dissect all that he was feeling. Grant held his arms out, motioning that she look at them. Her eyes drifted slowly to them, and she gasped. Long, short, thin, and thick discolored lines and patterns covered his arms. Quietly he said, "Everyone has scars of the past… hopefully not as literal as mine." He smiled softly and explained, "I was an abuse victim. For a long while I was too afraid to tell anyone… The longer I remained quiet, the worse it got. The occasional hitting and burning turned into a nightly beating. I had to wear long shirts and pants to hide the cuts and bruises… Nobody even noticed," he whispered thoughtfully. "Everyone thought I just got cold easily. Adults thought I was polite and thoughtful when really I was afraid. I thought if I said the wrong thing or made a mistake they'd beat me as well. I thought it was normal…" 

Vevila shook her head, "Please stop." She didn't want to know Grant's secrets. She wanted them to be friends who kept to themselves, and only assume each other's feelings. She was comfortable with that. She didn't want someone knowing about her past. 

"You need to understand." He looked meaningfully at her. "You need to know that you're not alone… I made that mistake, and now I have to live with these." He lifted his arms lightly. "Look at me, Vala." He gently touched her chin, gesturing she turn to him. "I'm here for you. I'll be there when no one else is. I can understand…"

She bowed her head, and a tear seeped from her eye. "Everyone I… everyone I ever loved was taken from me." She turned her gaze back to him. "I can't bare it anymore… I need to know someone will always be there…" 

Grant smiled softly and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly. "Don't worry…" Then he said something which comforted her like nothing else could, "I'm a Pureblood and a Slytherin. We will make it through together." 

And that was the marking of the first true friend Vala had ever had. 

~+~+~+~

"I've got to go!" 

"Not without me saying goodbye you're not!" 

Vala rolled her eyes and stopped. She turned and waited for Grant to catch up. He jumped at her and caught her in a hug. "I'm going to miss you, Vala! What will I ever do without you?" 

"Oh, stop it! I'm only leaving for Christmas." She patted his back and awkwardly checked her watch. She tried to push him away, but his grip was too tight. Once again she complained, "I'm going to be late!" 

He squeezed her once more and released. He stood an elbow's length away and brushed the hair from her eyes. "Now you take care, lassie."

She batted his hand away and reminded, "I told you not to call me that." 

"I was going to see you to the gates, but Snape wouldn't have it."

"Don't worry, I'll manage." She picked up her luggage and backed away from him. She smiled cheerfully and turned to leave. 

Vevila ran briskly out the door and down the steps, but an icy voice stopped her. "Slipping away so soon?" She fell short in her pace, and stood still, a cringe smacking her face. "I'd have thought you'd have the courtesy to say goodbye. After all, we are engaged."

She felt his cool breath on her neck, sending shivers down her back, but not the fuzzy, pleasant shivers you should get from a lover. Saxon Malfoy, the only man alive with breath as cool as Winter's and a touch as chilling as ice. 

"I really must go… I do not wish to be late." 

"Vevila, I believe you're forgetting something."

Setting down her luggage she moved to face him. She knew what he wanted. However, she wasn't as keen in satisfying his deepest desires. Reluctantly, she sauntered up to him, and kissed his lips. She shuttered; it was like kissing an ice cube capable of movement. The feeling was unnerving, and never was she more relieved than when he pulled away. 

"I love you," she lied in a breathy whisper. 

He smiled triumphantly, and ran a finger down her cheek. "Take care, my love…" 

She closed her eyes in a savoring gesture, and waited until he had backed away. In a graceful spin she turned away from him, picked up her luggage, and hurried down the steps. She smiled inwardly; it hadn't been as horrible as she thought it would have. Acting wasn't too terrible. What was she thinking? Acting was horrible. If she wanted to be an actress she would have taken a few Muggle classes on it. She hated _acting _like she felt one way when she really felt the other. Though, she had a life to protect, and the acting was more welcomed than the alternative. 

~+~+~+~

Vala slipped through Remus' front door, and set down her bags. She was a little surprised, she was sure Remus would have been waiting at the door. Casually, she began unbuttoning her cloak. She nearly called out to greet him, but then she heard him speaking. _He must have company._ Her brow furrowed, and she stepped quietly down the hall, still unbuttoning her cloak; it was unlike Remus to have anyone over. She peeked around the corner, and saw him. _Surely he hasn't been driven to that… _she observed silently. 

Remus sat in front of the fire, appearing to speak to himself.

"I'd rather not discuss this now, Romulus." 

_Who's Romulus?_

"Be realistic, Remus… You can't keep it hidden forever."

_That must be him._ She poked her head out further to catch a glance at him. But all she saw was a fire. Wait… it wasn't just a fire; she saw… the head of a man? And the man looked almost identical to Remus. She gasped, and pulled herself away from the image. 

"I have to go," Remus finished quickly, cutting the connection. 

Vala sank against the wall; her cover had been blown. 

"Vala?" he called calmly.

She cringed, but pushed herself to face him. She didn't know what to say, and it was useless to lie. But lie about what? She wasn't sure she understood what they were talking about. Gulping, she asked the truest question she had, "Who is he?"

Remus sighed softly and sat down. Vala's eyes softened enormously, _he looks so tired. _Tired was an understatement. Remus looked exhausted. 

"He," Remus began, thoughtfully bringing a finger to his lip, "He would be my brother, Romulus Lupin." 

"Who?" She heard him, but she was in shock. _Since when does- _"You have a brother?"

"A twin," Remus specified.

"A t-twin?" Vala sputtered, "And when did you plan on telling me this?"

"I didn't think it was important," he replied mildly.

"This, this is definitely a big deal," she answered. 

Remus waved his hand. "It's nothing really."

Vala sat down next to him, staring at him in shock. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well," he began slowly, "Romulus and I never got off well."

"He's your brother!" she exclaimed. Vala never had any blood related siblings, and it came as a real shock to learn siblings weren't best friends. After all, the Marauders had given her a brotherly impression; weren't siblings just like that? 

Remus sighed; a sigh of understanding and sadness. "When…" he faltered. He took a deep breath and continued, "When I was first bitten, and Romulus learned I was a werewolf…" He stopped again. Vala's hand settled softly on top of his, pressing him to continue. "Things, things changed between us. He had always been so proud… so strong and bold. It was disgraceful… He couldn't bare the thought that his brother was a werewolf." He looked thoughtfully at her, "Who could?" He averted his eyes and explained, "My parents tried everything, but even now there's no cure for it… In shame he disowned me.

"Imagine, a man disowning his brother." He smiled faintly, a smile that hid the pain; Vala, however, saw through it. "Well," he rose his eyebrows slightly, "Hogwarts was the only school that would accept me, and as you know we bare many similarities. People said we looked so much alike… Romulus hated it. He hated that anyone could even confuse us, partially because I was a werewolf. It was unacceptable, and thus he refused to attend Hogwarts."

"Wait," Vala interrupted, as she did whenever someone had a story to tell. "You started at Hogwarts when you were eleven-"

"Ten," he corrected softly.

She waved a hand impatiently; something she had subconsciously picked up from him. "Yes, you were only ten… that doesn't make any sense."

He drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "How so?"

"You were only ten, and your brother likewise, and yet he disowned you? It doesn't make much sense," she pointed out.

Remus smiled and replied, "Even at ten he knew having a werewolf for a brother was abnormal. We never had a chance to get close. I was bitten so early, and at first he didn't realize what it meant, but we grew up in a brainwashed society… it didn't take him long to understand what a disgrace it is." 

Vala shook head in disagreement. Looking at him she earnestly refuted, "It doesn't matter to me." Everything he had to say disturbed her. He spoke with such acceptance. 

He smiled again, but it wasn't his usual unbalanced smile, he actually looked happy. "Romulus doesn't seem to think so… not even after all these years. I thought he'd been given time to mature, but apparently not." 

"Then why was he contacting you?" she asked abruptly. 

His eyebrows rose as he looked back at her. "Nothing… nothing really," he answered hastily. 

She stared at him; Remus never was very good at lying. "Is that so…"

"It's not crucial to the story."

"I think it is. Tell me," she commanded, squeezing his hand in reassurance. 

Remus sighed softly, and admitted, "He was asking about my parent's will. Apparently something was not accounted for, and he suspects I took it."

"That's ridiculous!" Vala exclaimed, "Does he honestly believe you would steal something?" Remus' eyes flickered towards the corner. She gave him a questioning stare before turning to see what it was. "You didn't…" She turned back to see a smirk tugging at Remus' lips. She slapped his hand and scolded playfully, "You didn't!"

~+~+~+~

"Doesn't Professor Trelawney have one of these?" 

"Probably," he replied. "If used correctly it can show you the future… and the present, I think, but I mostly used it for story telling."

"Story telling?" she asked, glancing at him. 

"I didn't get out much as a kid… I used to shake it like this-" He shook the crystal ball, and set it down on its stand. "And watch a story unfold. Looking back, I don't really think the shaking had much effect on it." 

Vala bent low and stared into the foggy mist. She watched as a young woman tossed a golden ball in the air repeatedly, but then she accidentally dropped it into a bog. A frog hopped up alongside her and offered to retrieve the ball if the princess let him eat at her plate, and sleep in her bed. Vala remembered this one; the frog ended up turning into a prince. She hated the mushy tales with the perfect endings. Making a face she asked, "Why did you steal this again?"

Remus shrugged. "Memories. I'm really quite surprised Romulus remembered it… I only used it when he was out with his friends." 

She looked up at him. "Well, I think we can rule out that he wanted it for the fairy tales. Do you think," she began thoughtfully, standing up, "That perhaps he wanted to read the future?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. He never could relax… He always had to know what was happening next. I was the same way, but for entirely different reasons." 

"Oh?" she asked, curiously tapping the ball, attempting to change the story. 

"I could never quite relax knowing someone might find out my secret… like this, Vala," he corrected, momentarily tilting the ball sideways, and placing it back on its stand. 

"I don't like this one either," she divulged, scrunching up her nose. "Are they all this girly?" 

"Yes, now leave it alone," he sniffed like all grown-ups do when their favorite childhood toy is insulted, and covered it with a deep blue velvet cloth. "How long is it until you leave again?" He walked away to make a cup of tea, or so Vala suspected. 

"You're friendly," she snorted. "And not until after the New Year." 

"Oh, oh really?" he stuttered, his steps faltering.

"Why?" she called, taking a seat in an old, yet comfortable armchair. 

"The 28th is a full moon," he reminded. 

"Come now, Remus, surely you don't think I'm a child? I can handle myself… you go out and party all night long." 

"I won't be partying," Remus reciprocated. 

"No," she agreed, "But doesn't it sound so much more glamorous?" Remus clucked his tongue, and handed her a cup of tea. "That was quick," she commented, taking it from his hands. Choking down a sip, she'd almost forgotten how much she hated tea. "Delicious," she lied, grimacing when he looked away. 

Remus took a seat in the other armchair. _He's so thin,_ she observed. Here she was in the very same room as he, and he still looked lonely. Just as she once did, she pitied him. _He's so lonely…_ He was a werewolf, and that made him reluctant to make friends. She knew he never had company, and now she knew he avoided all contact with his remaining relatives. _He needs someone to confide in… someone who understands… _For a fleeting second she thought of herself. She understood him more than anyone else, and even she had trouble decoding all his feelings. _He needs a werewolf… _And again she thought of herself. _But how? _She gazed thoughtfully at the fire, something her father used to do, and came up with a solution. 


	10. Friends and Family

Friends and Family

__

Cause the one thing most important is the one we take for granted

And until your life is on that line I think it's the way god had planned it

To open up your eyes and make you realize

That to some life is money

But what's money without life

Cause all's I need is the air that I breathe

And my friends and family to believe in me

"It's okay… it's okay… daddy's right here… he's here… I'm scared, daddy. Make it stop… please?" A six-year-old Vala lay in her bed, whimpering to herself. She pretended her dad was in the room for comfort, and hid under the covers to block out the sound and flashing light. "I hate storms, daddy." She patted the spot next to her, and clutched the sheets in fright. She bit her lip and cried softly, "I hate storms." 

Lord Thunder banged his mighty drums as Lady Lightning struck another tree. They were on a mission to destroy all that lived and breathed. Vala knew it was only a matter of time before they came for her. She hated storms. Hated was a near understatement, Vala despised storms. 

Vala huddled under the blankets and whimpered quietly to herself. The storm seemed to last, but then a voice rung out; a voice most unlike Lord Thunder's. 

"Vala?" It spoke. "Vala, are you all right?" 

She pulled the sheets off her head, and stared teary-eyed at her dad.   
"Oh, daddy!" she cried, "Make it stop!"

Her dad looked down at her collarbone and remarked, "I see you still wear it."

Vala looked down and noticed that her childish body had been transformed; it appeared as she was now. She also noticed the milky blue orb strung on a silver chain hung loosely around her neck. She touched it, and a faint glow emitted. 

"I told you that whenever you're alone or afraid to hold that and turn to the sky. I told you I would always be there to protect you… Didn't you believe me?" he asked in a whisper. "Did you believe death would deny that promise?" 

The glow grew stronger, and it stung her eyes to gaze upon. "I… I don't know what to believe anymore."

"I'll be there," he assured, his voice growing faint.

"Wait, don't go!"

He smiled softly, and his image became fuzzy.

"Wait for me, daddy! I don't want to be left behind again!" Vala cried, struggling with her sheets, which had twisted into several strong snakes. "Don't leave me!" 

He shook his head sadly, and disappeared.

"No!" Vala shrieked, falling out of her bed. She woke up to find her sheets twisted around her, and she reached to her neck; it was still there. She'd worn the necklace since her parents' death, but she hadn't given it much thought for the past months. It was odd that all of a sudden her father appeared to remind her of it. 

"I don't understand," she whimpered, bowing her head. 

~+~+~+~

"Did you sleep well?"

Vala looked drowsily up from her cup of hot cocoa. "Yes," she smiled, but the rings under her eyes defied the lie. She sat comfortably curled up in one of his more comfy chairs, and fought the urge of falling asleep. 

He observed her silently, and nodded knowingly; he never did listen to the spoken words. "Would I be as ignorant to assume you've forgotten Christmas?"

"Of course you would," she replied casually, sipping her cocoa. _That's right,_ she thought, _it's Christmas. _"Always assuming the worst, my dear Remus." 

He skeptically rose an eyebrow and refuted, "Then where's my gift?" 

"I haven't got it on me, you greedy bugger."

"Oh, my mistake," he replied, smiling warmly. 

__

Did he have to smile? Now I feel worse about lying. Sure, Remus knew she was lying, but he didn't have to smile like he believed her. 

~+~+~+~

"I'm going out!" Vala shouted, pulling her coat on. "I'll be back in a good hour or two!" she added, opening the door.

"Be careful! And don't forget to bundle up!" Remus responded.

"Yes, mother," Vala droned.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she lied cheerfully, finally slipping out the door. Christmas vacation had done her well; she could finally relax. Vala glanced down the deserted, country road. Actually, it wasn't much of a country road as they lived in a wooded area, but it was the exact kind of road you would expect to find in the country. It was loose dirt in the summer, which came up in clouds if you drove down it too quickly, in the fall it was covered with crisp leaves from the overhanging trees, in winter it iced over, and in spring it was lined by little tulips and daisies. Diagon Alley was miles from home, but given the proper shortcut and flirting with the right wizard in the right pub could get you there in twenty minutes. Vala pulled up the hood of her cloak and briskly walked down the country road, minus the country exterior of course. 

Vala walked half a mile and turned onto a well-padded-down path. She knew it was stupid to enter the Woods during the winter as night was early approaching and the path was uneven as well as slippery, but she was buying her time. She picked up her pace as she drew deeper into the Woods. Shady characters lived around here, and she wasn't too keen on confronting any of them. _I never liked these Woods much,_ she thought to herself. It wasn't that she was afraid, she just simply hated Woods. Woods of all kinds. Especially the Forbidden Forest. Vala shivered, partially from the frost and another from the memory of Saxon. 

She shook her head. _You're on vacation, forget about that, _she commanded.

Vala quickened her step and in a short ten minutes she was out of the Woods. "Ah yes," she whispered, looking over the familiar stores. Her eyes strolled over the storefronts until she spotted a familiar one with a faded sign that read _"The Lucky Clover." _It was a pleasant little Irish pub with Renaissance barmaids and a bartender that never forgot a face. 

Vala pushed open the door, with a vivid green paint that stuck in your memory for years, and entered the friendly pub. She hadn't even expected to see anyone she knew, but horrible coincidences like that always kick key characters in the ass. 

"Vala!" the accented voice greeted. One could guess that it was Irish. 

Vala smiled with chapped lips and rosy cheeks. "Merry Christmas, Grant, what a pleasant surprise… Hey, I thought you were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas?"

He shrugged. "I only like to stick around for Christmas and New Years." His paused reflectively, but immediately snapped back. Tugging her towards a barstool, "Here, let me buy you a drink."

"Grant, I'm only-"

He waved a hand impatiently. "To the Irish you're legal from the time of birth. Hey Ronnie, two over here!"

"Really, Grant, I'm fine," Vala insisted.

"Nonsense! Every good Irishwoman likes a drink!"

"But I'm not I-"

"You are today, lass!"

Ronnie set the two large mugs down in front of them. "Payin' for this one, Grant?"

"'Course not!" Grant exclaimed in shock. "What're cousins for anyhow?"

"Search me," Ronnie shrugged. "I didn't ask for one." 

Grant whapped Ronnie's arm, "Off with you!"

Ronnie scowled playfully and hurried off to serve an impatient drunk. 

_Curious… it's only four and he's drunk? How pitiful, _Vala reflected silently. "Cousins?" she echoed. "You never told me about any cousins."

"'Course I do. We Irish are breeders, big families are customary," Grant answered, taking a drink from his beer. His eyes flickered to her.

"But… I thought you were an only child."

"I am." Grant shifted uncomfortably. "My father isn't… your ordinary Irishman. Not Irish at all, actually… He drinks enough to earn the title, but he's a bit of a mutt." 

"I see," Vala replied, sipping her beer. No need to push confessions any further. "Grant… Do you think you could give me a ride to Diagon Alley?"

"Sure, what for?"

Vala blushed a deep rosy color and admitted, "I forgot to buy Remus a gift."

"Shame on you… Now drink that beer like a good Irish lass and I'll take ya to the Leaky Cauldron."

~+~+~+~

"I don't know how comfortable I am with this… Couldn't we take a car or something of the sort?" 

Grant only rolled his eyes. "Since when are you afraid to try a little Floopowder? Besides, Muggle toys were reserved for Muggles and the toying of overly curious wizards."

Vala frowned. "In the Wizarding World there's a spell for everything, but we shouldn't let magic take all the fun out of life. Sometimes your disasters can became the greatest times of your life," she said. 

Grant stared at her for a moment, and then some. "Ye-es… May I ask where you picked up that little bit from?"

"Um…" Where had it come from? Surely she hadn't made it up. "Remus and Lily ha-" but she fell silent.

"Lily? I've heard of Remus, but Lily is new… Is she a friend of yours?" he asked curiously.

"No, no… she's a figment of my imagination," she flustered, and despite herself, grabbed a handful of Floopowder.

"Do you hold conversations with your imagination, Vala?"

"No, of course not," she snapped, throwing the powder onto the fire and walking in. "Diagon Alley!" She never liked traveling by Floopowder, but anything was better than confronting Grant. He was a sweet guy, but he had a horrible tendency of getting you right where it hurt. That Grant was great with a blade. The kind you picked up and stabbed people with right between the ribs. He would never flat out kill you. No, he'd rather see you squirm. He'd rather see you sweat. And in that respect Grant was like a cat, always playing with his food before finally eating it. 

Lost in thought, the trip was over before she realized it had begun, and she was thrown from a chimney. She landed in a cloud of smoke, coughing and hacking the soot from her lungs. Why people smoked she would never know. She stood up, smacking the black dust from her cloak, only to fall again by the tumbling Grant. 

"Many apologies, lass… Here, let me help you with that."

"I'm quite capable, Grant- and did you just touch my butt?"

"Not intentionally, just helping you dust off."

"Not intentionally my-"

"May I help you?" A stern looking woman interrupted.

Vala froze, which was a shame as she was just about to smack Grant. Slowly, she dropped her hand and sized up the woman. 

Grant stood up and half-whispered, "Are these those disasters you were talking about?"

"Uh… Not quite." 

~+~+~+~

"Just walk down to the end of this street and turn right at that next corner… It should be the third shop down."

"Thanks!" Vala hollered gratefully, to the not so stern woman. Don't get me wrong, she was stern _looking_, but her personality was really quite pleasant. She was a proud grandmother who never hesitated to show you the photo-albums dedicated to each of her twenty-six grandchildren. She also made excellent chocolate chip cookies, so listening about Jimmy's first spell, or Valerie's Quidditch status didn't seem so bad. She even offered milk with the cookies. So in conclusion, she got on well with Grant. She would have been the perfect grandmother if, in Grant's mind, she also served beer.

Grant had a definite step to his walk, but at the same time a bounce. Yes, he may be smiling now, but say the wrong thing and those Irish eyes will laugh at you. And not the pleasant, gleeful laugh, but a laugh of confidence and rivalry. Of course, he was intimidating in other ways. And he was liked by nearly everyone. Chances were if he was fond of you, you would soon find yourself a good friend of his. Not that that was anything of significance as he had many friends. 

The boy had class, and more importantly, he had charm. 

In Vala's half-daze, Grant asked, "Why would he want a teapot?" This was an important question as they were on their way to pick one out for the bugger.

Vala shook her head. "Sorry… er… he likes to make tea?"

"Sounds pretty weak to me. Tell me, what relation are you to Remus?"

"I thought I explained this…"

"Not like that. I mean, _mentally _what relation are you to him?"

Vala thought for a moment. She'd thought that question over and over again and had never fully achieved an answer she liked. "Why… he's like a brother… but not quite. He's got that protective brotherly quality about him, but at the same time he's almost like a father."

"Very well. Then wouldn't you like to get him something he might appreciate? Maybe even something… _personal?_"

Revelation washed over Vala's face. What a novel idea. Why hadn't she thought of it? But soon her brightened face fell downcast. "But… I still don't know what to get him."

"Well, let's have a look about." He grabbed her hand and began walking down Diagon Alley. Nothing ever disturbed Grant. He was always so cool-headed. "I hardly believe he's interested in Quidditch or rats… or even silver necklaces." Grant smirked at Vala. 

She slapped his arm. "Don't tease." 

"Who's teasin'? Oooh…" Grant dropped Vala's hand and pressed his nose up against a display window. "Look at tha' beauty…"

Vala rolled her eyes. "I hardly believe he's interested in _that._"

"Oh, but I am…"

"Come along," Vala commanded, tugging lightly on his arm. _Boys… _Vala tsked. It was odd, really. Grant was the type of guy who aced his way through Hogwart's more infamous class, Sex-Ed. And not because he was a pervert, he just had a great understanding of the course. But he was shy. He wasn't the type of guy who exclaimed his excellence in the class. He was very private about it, and never had real conversations about _it_. So it shocked Vala that he acted so open with the storefront, so regular. She knew he wasn't, but there was that guy-stereotyping again. She suspected that sometimes he just had to fit in, even if the in was perverted jerks. 

Grant whimpered for pity, and reluctantly followed Vala. Soon, though, another display window caught his eye. "What about a pet? He's seems like your animal guy."

"He's not, and I'm afraid it'll only remind him of Sirius."

"What… Why?"

"Hmm… I'm not sure," Vala answered truthfully. "But Sirius always had these dog-like qualities about him. What Remus needs is a real friend…" She sighed sharply. Recently she had devised a plan to come closer to Remus, but she was still hesitant to go forth with it.

"Okay… Then how about we steer into a random store. I'm not a fond friend of frost-bite." 

~+~+~+~

"Put them on."

"No," Vala refused. "I couldn't."

"You can and you will," Grant insisted, slipping a fine, black leather glove on Vala's yielding hand. "It's winter, you shouldn't be without them." He slid the one on her other hand and reflected, "Your hands are nicely shaped… Think of them as a Christmas present." 

Vala sighed, though a smile had washed across her face. 

"Now," he padded her hand, "We can begin looking for Remus' gift." He turned to his left. "How does he like objects of fortune?" Grant asked, bending down to look into a crystal ball. 

"Oh, he already has one of those," Vala said dismissively. 

"He does?" he asked, tapping the sphere.

"Like this, Grant," she corrected, tipping it on its side and back again. 

"Uh… Nothing happened."

Like the sphere, Vala tipped her head. "Curious. Remus' works like that… it shows several old fables and fairy tales."

"Are you sure they were fables and tales?" he challenged softly.

"Of course they are…" But the question had given Vala a thought. "I wonder…" she shook her head. _That's ridiculous, of course they're only tales._

Moving along- "What about this?" 

"Uh…" Vala blushed. "I don't think he'd appreciate that."

"Doesn't the bugger have a sense of humor?"

"No, and neither do I," she said stiffly. 

"…Apparently," Grant mumbled. 

Vala bent in half to look at the next item on display. "Oooh… What about this?"

"What is it?" Grant asked, scrunching up his nose.

Vala peered over the edge of a round bowl full of misty water. Gingerly, she traced a finger along the edge. "Look at this pattern… Doesn't it seem it was just _made_ for him?" The mentioned pattern was a line of trees lit up by the moon. Looking closer, you could pick out little white stars, but an even closer look revealed that they were not stars at all and instead the gleaming eyes of shady creatures. "It's serendipity… we have to get it."

"But what _is _it?" 

Vala smiled faintly, a distant glint in her eyes, "That's the best part of all… It's a Pensieve."

~+~+~+~

"Here's my stop… Are you sure you can manage your way back? It's getting awful dark."

"I'll be fine," Vala insisted, impatience growing on her. 

Grant didn't look as convinced. But under Vala's confident stare he softened. "Fine… But you carry your wand out and if anything happens you send some warning sparks up."

"I'll be_ fine_," she stressed, rolling her eyes. 

"I'm serious, Vala. This is about the time when fights start breaking out and bartenders get sick of their all-day drunks… The hostile ones anyhow. You be careful and don't you talk to anyone."

Vala frowned. "You're starting to sound like Saxon." But followed it up with a friendly smile. "You outta watch that." And she kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Grant. I really appreciate it." With her gratitude out of the way she hurried away and into the Woods.

Going home was harder than leaving. The Woods, even under the light of a near full moon, was quite dark. Not extremely dark because the fallen snow had brightened the ground up considerably, but still dark. 

The saleswoman had put a charm on the Pensieve so it wouldn't spill, but it was still a struggle to carry. A Pensieve. Vala had heard of them, but the witch had filled in all the gaps. Whenever the keeper had an unpleasant thought or a merciless memory all they had to do was to place his or her wand against his or her temple and add the memory to the Pensieve. It seemed simple enough, even if Grant didn't quite get it. Vala was sure he'd love it, for not only was it beautiful, but it would help Remus relax.

Once again, Vala was lucky. Her crammed thinking helped her get back home without a single worry. Twenty minutes had passed unnoticed. In fact, five hours had passed unnoticed. She would have denied even an hour had passed if the once murky blue sky hadn't fallen to blackness. With this revelation she stepped up the sidewalk with caution, Remus' gift tucked under her arm. Slowly, she reached for the doorknob, but before she could catch it the door swung open. 

"Two hours?" Remus asked. _"Two hours!?"_ he repeated eccentrically.

~+~+~+~

"Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? Anything, _Anything_!"

Vala sat on the dusty couch; her heels pressed up against the side and her hands folded in her lap. She timidly watched Remus pace back and forth. It was kind of scary to see him so… well, wound up. He was like a little wind-up toy and all she could do was sit back and watch him run out of energy. 

She didn't dare offer her tidbit. Everything he said sunk in. She had been yelled at several times before, but only by her parents. This was different. It was hard to see such a cool-tempered man angry, and it wasn't so much that he was angry, it was that he was disappointed. Like he had expected more from her. She was doing all she could to save him, what was a mistake here and there? But alas, he didn't know about that bit of information, and if Vala had it her way he never would. Vala's wild, timid eyes softened. She was doing this for him. _Please don't be mad at me… please don't make me regret any decisions._

Remus sighed. "Don't you have anything to say?"

She looked up at him, and bit her lower lip. Pooling eyes often deceived and she would do all she could to fight them. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she picked up the large, round object next to her and held it up. "Happy Christmas?" she offered meekly. 

Remus sighed again, but it wasn't the empty kind; it was all his disappointment and annoyance leaving him in the form of a breath. The sigh signified that he'd given up and that he couldn't stay angry with her any longer. A smile twitched for a second, but it was all Vala needed.

"I saw that," she teased. No use in hiding it anymore.

The twitch twisted into a grin and from there a faint smile. Remus carefully unwrapped the gift, but didn't quite give the expression Vala had been waiting for. His light brown eyebrows drew together. "Thanks for the…" _fruit bowl?_ "It's very… er… lovely," he finished lamely.

"It's a Pensieve, Remus," she pouted. 

"Oh…" then realization. "Oh!" A breathtaking smile rolled across his face, the one rarely shared. "I love it… But now for your gift!"

"Oh, you didn't have to-"

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, pulling a large, white package from behind an armchair. 

"You and Grant," she mumbled, shaking her head, though a cheerful smile crossed her. 

"Who?" he asked curiously, making his way back to his seat.

"Just a friend- here, let me help you with that."

"This one first," Remus directed, taking a small black velvet box from his pocket. He dropped it into her hands with the comment, "Now these aren't just to wear around the house." 

"What is it?" she asked in a very childlike manner, which served as a quick flashback. 

"Open it," he commanded, shifting the package and sitting down. 

She didn't have to be told twice. "Oh, Remus… they're beautiful!" Inside the box was a set of princess-cut diamond earrings. She'd never owned real diamonds before. She was about to hug him, but he stopped her.

"There's more." He handed the second package to her. She eagerly took it from him, but he kept her from opening it. "I… um, I really think Lily would have wanted you to have this. I think it would have meant a lot to her if you would wear it… She… she never really had a sister, but she looked upon you as one." 

Vala tilted her head slightly and nodded soundlessly. She missed Lily… She missed them all, but especially Lily. Her excitement replaced with solemnity, she opened the box. "Oh my…" She choked, looking up at Remus. "I couldn't."

Remus gulped, but explained, "She wore this the day she and James were married… Now that you're getting married I think you should wear it. She'd be honored if you did… It's only a shame that she's not here to see you in it." A sigh escaped him. 

Vala's gaze fell back to the dress. She was at a loss for words. Why was he giving it to her? She didn't deserve it. No, Saxon didn't deserve it. She graced a hand over the fine lace, which shook from nerves. _I can't marry him in this… _

"But she will," Vala whispered. "She'll always be there."


	11. Revolution

Revolution

__

You say you want a revolution

Well you know

We all want to change the world

You tell me that it's evolution

Well you know

We all want to change the world

But when you talk about destruction

Don't you know you can count me out

Don't you know it's gonna be alright

Alright alright

"And if anyone comes up in the fire, don't answer it." 

"Remus," Vala exasperated, rolling her eyes, "I've been home alone before." 

"Granted, but you've never been left alone all night. And if anything happens you won't be able to contact me, or anyone else for that matter," he reminded.

"What would happen? And besides, I've got friends. If anything happens I'll-"

"You'll what?" he broke in, which was odd as Remus rarely interrupted anyone. He was much too polite to do anything like that. And patience, Remus had an endless supply of patience. 

"I'll contact them… Now leave," she assured, ushering him out the door. Really, she had no idea what she'd do if something happened. Though, she doubted anything would, so there was no reason to worry about it. 

"I don't know how comfortable I am with this."

"You haven't got much choice, now go!" she stressed, shoving him out the door. When she had successfully locked Remus out, she laughed quietly to herself. _He's a real character, he is. _

Vala shook her head, and waltzed into the kitchen; she intended on making a delicious cup of hot chocolate in Remus' teakettle. She knew Remus wouldn't be keen on the idea as the chocolate always left a horrible taste in the kettle, and Vala never bothered to wash it. She claimed he brought it upon himself. After all, he was the fool who was always stocked to the max with chocolate, whether it was a mix or a bar.

_Let him make his dreadful tea in this…_ she grinned maliciously, dropping the chocolate mix inside the kennel. She knew just as well as everyone else that you were only supposed to boil _water _in a teakettle, but she also didn't care. She could be lazy, and it was too time consuming to mix the powder separately. 

"Lassie!" 

Spilling a large scoop of powder onto the counter, Vala growled in irritation, "What do you want, Grant?"

"Whew, and I was afraid I'd reach the wrong fireplace!"

Vala's eyebrows drew close. "Wait… How did you get mine? I never told you how to reach me…"

"No, but don't forget too soon I have high connections." 

"What kind of connections?" Vala asked curiously, stepping into the living room and wiping her hands off on her robes. 

"All sorts- are you_ baking?"_ he scoffed. 

She shook her head slightly and replied, "I was making hot cocoa."

"Hmm," Grant nodded knowingly, glancing around the room. "So… is this were you live?"

"Something like that." After a pause, she crossed her arms and asked skeptically, unsure if she really wanted to know, "Is there any reason you're contacting me?"

"No," Grant said lightly, glancing about the room once more. "Ah yes! There was something I wanted to ask."

"And it was…?" 

"I forget, oh but I wanted to know if you were doing anything on New Years as well." 

She subconsciously rose an eyebrow. "It's not customary… why?" 

He shrugged and replied, "I thought you'd like to have a little fun or something."

"I think I'll pass." She wiped off her hands again, and heard the sound of crinkling paper. 

"All right then, but if you change your mind I'll be at The Lucky Clover. Guess I'll just be-"

"Oh wait, Grant!" she exclaimed, falling to her knees. 

"Ye-es?" he grinned, raising a brow playfully. 

She fumbled for a paper in her pocket, and pulled out a short list of ingredients. "You don't suppose you could lend me a favor, do you?" 

"I might consider it."

"Well," she began carefully, "I know your relatives have been involved with potions and…"

"The Dark Arts, out with it," he finished quickly. 

"I was wondering if you could collect these ingredients for me." She stuck the recipe on a poker, and carefully pointed it at Grant. He bit the list, as his hands were useless, and his head disappeared from view. "They're very basic… henbane, opium, hemlock, parsley…" she called. 

"Doesn't Remus own any of these?"

"Well… Remus excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he wasn't much in Potions… whatever he has is very limited, and I fear he'd notice if something was missing," she explained. "Can I count on you?"

"Of course you can… however, you'll have to pay a hefty fee."

Vala sighed, and slouched against a chair. "I figured. Name your price."

"You'll have to explain to me why you're making the Loup Coeur potion."

"You, you know of it?" she sputtered, jolting forward.

His head reappeared. "Of course I've heard of it! Give me more credit than that, Vala, and don't think I don't know what it will do to you… I don't suppose you knew that when the Dark Lord was still reigning that he used this potion against his followers to make them pay for their wrong doings. The ones he didn't kill anyhow, this was reserved for the useful ones. A reminder every full moon for their deception."

She rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "Does that mean you won't help me?"

Grant sighed. "Of course I'll help you… I'm reluctant to as I've seen what it does, but I assume you're doing this for Remus." He waited for her to nod before finishing, "Also, once this potion is activated there's no turning back, so make sure this is what you want to do."

"I've given it a lot of thought… This is what I want to do. He needs someone, Grant… I hate to see him so lonely."

"Vala," he addressed quietly. "I'm sure there's other ways… There must be. Do you really think he wants you to do this to yourself?" 

"I'm sure he doesn't, but it feels right… I don't know how to explain it, it just does."

"Okay," Grant responded hesitantly, "If this is what you want…" He glanced at the clock set against the wall and added, "I've got to be on my way, lassie, but take care."

"Don't call me lassie," she replied, smiling softly.

~+~+~+~

_rat-a tat-tat… rat-a-rat-a tat-tat… rat-a…_Vala's tapping, an obnoxious habit of Grant's that had apparently rubbed off unto her, came to an abrupt stop. It was only ten, and she had run out of things to do. She'd never been home alone for an extended period of time, and she couldn't sleep. She tapped the coffee table to release some pent up energy, while her eyes wandered the room, searching for something to play with. Then she saw it- the box containing Lily's bridal gown and veil. Unsure what to do with it, she had placed it in the corner and hadn't touched it since Christmas. She couldn't stop thinking about it, subconsciously she had thought that maybe if she kept it out of sight that maybe it would disappear. The guilt was too much. She wanted to marry her ridiculous fiancé in a ridiculous wedding gown at a ridiculous wedding with a ridiculous reception. It was supposed to be ridiculous, some sad joke she could look back on and say she never took seriously. But with this… With Lily's dress she had to take it seriously; it was no longer a joke. 

Vala stood up and slowly made her way towards the dress, the problem. Problems were supposed to be swept under the rug, never to be dealt with, or to the more sophisticated, placed in a Pensieve, where you swear you'll late get back to it later. Nobody ever did. You pushed your problems away, hoping somebody else will deal with them, or they'll vanish completely. This wasn't the case. This was _her _problem. This problem could never be forgotten, or in some circumstances, forgiven.

She removed the lid and took a good look inside. Vala sighed. A sigh that exhibited several emotions, but far too complex to pinpoint. After much hesitation she picked up the crown and set it atop her head. The veil itself wasn't much to comment on. It touched a bit lower than her shoulders and was made from a light, soft material. The crown attached was thin and dainty. Everything about it was dainty. 

Something about wearing a wedding veil struck Vala and she giggled. _I…_ she struck a pose, _am a queen!_ And with that she dropped her stiffness and gracefully lifted the dress from the box. 

"Merlin's beard," she mumbled, on the verge of speechlessness. It was a simplistic dress, something she could imagine Lily in, but still beautiful. No words could describe it, it was absolutely gorgeous. Depending on your taste, of course, because with a more advanced, greedy taste, and the dress would be ruined. Without a moments hesitation, and confident that no one would interrupt, she slipped the dress on. 

The dress was made from silk. A break from the stiff school robes and itchy cottons was a change. The sensation was sweet, and when she moved she felt a thousand silken lips kissing her. The skin and sleeves were made of organza, a breezy, transparent fabric that hung unto her. The sleeves and front hung loosely, gapping her shoulders and upper torso, only pulled together by the thin strips of silk used as straps. She was relieved to find the train was nonexistent, she didn't think she could handle that. 

"Now this is what I call poetic justice…"

The dress was made to flatter a slim figure, and it fit Vala perfectly. It seemed to pulsate, giving it it's own personality. Vala pushed the coffee table back and spun. _Maybe marriage isn't so serious, _she thought, spinning again. _All I have to do is play dress up and smile pretty… say I'm the wife of Saxon Malfoy. _Marriage had turned into a type of game for her. 

~+~+~+~

The sun's rays shot across the landscape, sending shadows long. Magnificent violets and rubies streaked the sky, coated by oranges and yellows. A lone, silent figure grayed the scene with his tattered robes and empty steps. 

Remus felt light-headed and tired, all he could think about was collapsing on his bed and sleeping the day away. His feet, resounding a dull thud, made their way up his sidewalk and to the front door. He twisted the doorknob, noticed it was unlocked, and yawned. At least he wouldn't have to wake Vala up. He entered his home, walked quietly down the hall, but just as he was turning for his room he paused. And he smiled weakly. 

Vala lay on the couch in a deep slumber, wearing Lily's wedding gown and veil. Remus had been afraid she didn't like it, but the current situation seemed to turn all his assumptions around. He moved towards her, his silence and grace taking part. In only an hour the sun would be shining directly on her face, so he quietly closed the curtains, careful not to disturb her. 

Remus left the room for a moment, but soon returned with two warm blankets. He tossed one on the sofa in the corner, and covered Vala with the other. He watched her sleep for only a moment, then gently pushed the veil away from her face, lest she be awakened. They always looked so innocent sleeping. He smiled to himself. She would make a beautiful bride, even if he thought she was too young. 

Unable to stifle another yawn, he staggered to his sofa, covered up, and fell asleep. 

~+~+~+~

__

(A/N: Sorry updates have been so far and in between… I lost my story! It was on a floppy disk with my name and everything and it up and walked away! I was a little upset, but worry not! I am frantically rewriting everything I've lost. Though, I must admit, I can't wait until I finish writing Vala's 7th year, so I can move onto more interesting subjects… hehe. -Vouivre)


	12. Time for Livin'

Time for Livin'

__

I kicked off my shoes, and felt the good earth beneath my feet

I loosened my tie, and felt what it feels like to breathe

I found the secret to life

I took some time for living

I took off my watch, and found I had all the time in the world

I opened up my arms, so I could hold life like a beautiful girl

I laid down all of my hang-ups forever

I looked around, and saw what sweet things can be found

Simply by taking some time for living

"I'm leaving now!" Vala called, pulling her cloak on over a pair of old, scruffy black robes. She didn't get out much anymore, and generally collected her outfits from the back of Remus' closet. It didn't bother her much, she wasn't much into fashion anymore, and the robes were generally loose and comfortable. 

"Don't drink too much!" Remus hollered back.

That was odd advice, considering he usually told her to keep an eye on her drinks. 

"Um… Okay?" She walked down the hallway with a quizzical expression, slowly inching a pair of leather gloves on.

Remus broke into her view, sitting on a chair, a book in hand. "Don't think I never took advantage of The Lucky Clover, they don't check ID's you know." He glanced up at her. "In my youth, of course."

"I should expect so." A hand reached each hip. "When did you-" A hurried knock rudely interrupted. 

"You better go, he's getting impatient," he warned.

She looked him over again.

"Go," he urged.

She shrugged and turned away. "Alright, but if I hear about any woman I haven't been informed about from you directly, heads will roll." 

He shook his head, returned to his book, and she left.

"Took ya long enough," Grant grumbled. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he bounced from foot to foot. "It's bloody freezin'!"

"Sorry, I was saying my good-byes." She inhaled the air and stepped down the steps.

"Your good-byes? You're not dyin'," he pointed out rather obviously, following her. 

"No, but you never know when you'll see someone last." She crossed her arms, and continued across the lawn.

"That's kind of depressing, don't you think?"

"Yes, but I often find that the truth is rather depressing."

~+~+~+~

"Have another beer, my lass."

"I'm quite alright, Mr. O'Daniel."

"Nonsense! Drink, drink!" Mr. O'Daniel, Ronnie's father and Grant's uncle, urged.

Awkwardly, Vala sipped her beer and made a face. She didn't particularly like the taste of beer, but rejecting an Irishman's drink was just as ludicrous as tweaking Snape's nipple; it was unthinkable, of course as all unthinkable things everyone is guilty of… well, thinking about them. But in the end, guilty curiosities or not, you just didn't do it. 

"Yer know, I'm so proud of 'im. Out drinkin' the best 'o muh kin an' all." Mr. O'Daniel wiped a tear from her eye as Vala shifted a glance to Grant, gulping beer after beer, winning contest after contest, erupting into cheer over and over again. Something inside her panged with guilt. She liked to see him happy, but not at the cost of millions of brain cells. 

"Don't you think he's had enough?" she asked meekly. 

"Enough? Enough!" Mr. O'Daniel shouted in shock. And suddenly tweaking Snape's nipple didn't seem nearly as ludicrous as rejecting an Irishman from hisdrink. 

"Or not," she hurried. Vala looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. 

"'Ey! Vala! Come on o'er 'ere!" Grant hollered across the bar. 

Willingly, she took the offer. Though Mr. O'Daniel had grown considerably intent with watching the droplets on his beer mug become pregnant and stream down the sides, she still felt the dire need to move away from him. 

She pushed her way through the crowd, and slowly came alongside Grant. 

"Give the pretty lady yer seat, will ya?" he half asked, half demanded of a younger boy. Irish, but younger all the same. 

"No sense in being rude," she preached, taking the seat anyway. 

"Nonsense! Where's yer beer?"

"Uh… I…"

He waved a finger at her. "Ooh, ooh… _I _see. I see!" He stared at her with a fixed grin and unfocused eyes, then he ordered her a beer. 

"Grant, really, I-"

"Shup and drink!" he ordered, forcing the beer into her hands. 

Reluctantly, she sipped it. Though she made a face anyone less than blind could recognize as extreme dislike, he cheered, "Aw, now tha' wasn' so bad, was it?"

"No," she lied, no point in bringing him down. 

"Tha's wha' I thought!" He paused for a moment, and a thought struck him. He looked around with desperately wide eyes. "Anyone, Anyone!" he began rallying. "Let's get some drinkers!" It was only eleven thirty, but everyone had grown tired of drinking contests. Grant had drank them all out of courage and dignity, and some of the stupider ones twice. Grant checked his watch, stared at it for a good minute or two, and frowned. Drinking impaired his negotiating skills only slightly. He leaned over to Vala, "Be a good lil lass and read meh the time, will ya?"

Vala sighed. "It's 11:30."

"Perfect, a fifteen minute run!" He turned to the waiting crowd and finished, "It's half an hour till the New Year! Who'll drink meh in?"

Still, no volunteers.

"Hows 'bout I raise the stakes then!" he hollered. He grabbed Vala's hand and raised it high. "Who sees this pritty lil lass by meh? Outdrink me and she's yours!" 

The men roared in laughter and cheer, but Vala ripped her hand away. "Grant!" she screeched. "How _dare _you!"

"Oh, she's a prissy lil lass, ain't she!"

"Not pleasant at all!"

Vala, feeling insulted, glared a bit, but still felt the need to prove herself otherwise. She couldn't leave letting all those Irishmen, drunk or not, believe she was indeed a 'prissy lil lass.' 

"So, are you all gonna stand around like chuckling monkeys, or are we going to get some contestants?" she challenged.

A man stepped forward. He was light skinned, blue eyed, and against all odds, dark haired. Also, he was suspiciously sober; a great crime in the Irish culture, but his arms were bulk and he was most obviously more into arm wrestling. 

"We've seen what Grant can do," he began, "But you, want can _you _do?"

Grant stared at the man, his mind working hard to understand what he was saying. "You wanna drink agains' a woman?" he guessed. He paused, then smirked. "Can't take the heat against ol' Grant O'Neil, can ya?" he asked with defiance. "Feels bettah ta win, regardless of the component, eh?" 

"Not at all," he admitted. "Actually, I thought we might all be a little interested in seeing you drink against a woman."

"Wait a minute… I don't think so," Vala cut in. _I can't drink against-_

"Oh," he rounded on her. "Don't think you can do it?"

__

That's exactly it. "No, I just…"

"You barely have a drink in you, you seem fresh enough. Grant's at a disadvantage, being drunk and all."

"Here, here!" Grant agreed.

Vala crossed her arms, still fighting to get out of it. "Well, then I don't want to drink against him," she said sternly. "I only play fair." 

"Fine," the man broke in. He captured Grant's broken gaze, "Looks like you're out of a component," he looked back at Vala and finished, "But it looks like I just found mine." 

Vala wouldn't have let her jaw drop, but her mind was too busy trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. 

"I… But I…" but her eyes caught every Irishman and woman staring back at her, waiting curiously for her reply. They were ready for entertainment, and she couldn't spoil that. Her arms uncrossed and dropped to her sides. She rose her chin and thrust a hand at the unnamed. "Name your claims," she commanded confidently. 

"If you win," he gestured to a plank of wood nailed, for no apparent reason, to the wall above the bar. "I will carve your name in that, and everyone here will be reminded who the Queen of Drinks is every time their gaze falls on it." 

"Charming. And if you win?" 

An innocent smile, which was someone invested with the slyness of a fox, curled his lips. "I get a New Years kiss from the prettiest lass around." 

Vala didn't miss a beat. "You've got yourself a contest," and shook his hand earnestly. 

The smile twisted into a broad grin, and he waved to Ronnie. A round table was cleared in record time and Ronnie set mugs upon mugs on the table while the nameless and Vala took their seat. 

"Your name?" she asked, shrugging her cloak off. "I'd like to know who I'm out-drinking," she added as a witty after comment.

"John," he answered, still grinning.

"Oh?" she pushed her sleeves back. "I'm Vala Amoureux. Hope you're a good carver, it's a tricky name."

"Yes, it's nice to know the girl's name I get to kiss." 

Both grinned determinedly, a spark of confidence in their eyes. Both grabbed hold of a mug and both prepared to start the contest, but only Vala received Grant's urgent whispering. 

"Never pouch the beer in your cheeks, just swallow. Don't bother gulping or tasting, just let it run down your throat. And don't stop. If you feel puke, swallow it down with the beer, don't let anything come back up. And when you've finally kicked his bulky arse I'll drag you out back and we'll have a good puke around." 

The instructions were odd, but well appreciated. She patted his hand, "Thanks, Grant."

"Ready?" John asked, raising his mug. 

"Ready," she affirmed.

Two young inexperienced drinkers threw back their heads, and the bottoms of glasses were seen. 

A thin stream of beer trickled down the side of Vala's face, but she continued to drink. After a minute, she slammed down the mug, and grabbed another. John was only a second or two behind her, and catching up fast. 

She slammed down her second mug, swayed, and picked up the third slightly slowly. 

"Don't think, Vala, just drink!" she heard Grant shout. In the rush, his Irish accent seemed to have vanished, an accent that was only present when he drank. 

She nodded heartily and gulped the third beer. John finished his third beer easier, but was having slight trouble with his fourth.

__

This is pitiful, she thought, _we non-Irish are sad. Grant doesn't get like this until his tenth, at least. _She pushed her reluctance aside, and slammed the third mug down, grabbing a fourth. 

She went on like that, a mad machine without a thought, for four more beers. Upon slamming down the eighth beer she finally felt the effects, it seemed to rush to her head all at once. She swayed in her seat. John was setting down his seventh mug. If she paused any longer he'd get ahead, and she couldn't allow that. 

Without hearing Grant's desperate urging, she picked up her ninth beer, and Ronnie brought over another tray. 

"I didn't think you'd last this long, really," he admitted, setting down the tray. 

She nodded and threw her head back with the beer. 

Puke crept up Vala's throat, and nearly splurged across the table, but she firmly held her mouth closed. 

"Hold it in, lassie! Hold it in!" Grant yelled drastically. "That plank's all yours! Just hold it in!"

She covered her mouth, the puke forcing its way against her lips. She shook her head. _No, not like this. Not like this! _And she swallowed it. An action that made her feel even sicker, but received numerous cheers and applause. She smiled weakly, and picked up her tenth mug of beer. 

She sipped the top before taking another gulp, which she soon regretted because it made her feel more ill. She hated the taste of beer. Grant had warned her, why did she even taste it? Maybe it was because she was trying to watch John over the rim of her mug, who swayed on the spot and looked ready to throw up himself. 

Vala and John locked eyes. He didn't look so good, then again, neither did she. His head tilted back and he closed his eyes. A second later he leaned forward and his head banged into the table. Almost immediately, he fell asleep. Once again, cheer erupted, but Vala didn't have time to shine because Grant grabbed her hand and ushered her out a back door. 

In the alley behind the _Lucky Clover_ Vala doubled over, letting everything that had gone down come back up. Grant stood next to her, holding her shoulders in case she leaned too forward and tripped into the chunky soup she was making. 

He whispered words of support and triumph. "Don't keep any of it in, lassie, there ya go… better out then in, as they always say. That was beautiful, lassie, the contest, I mean. You got ol' John nice an' good. He's gonna have a deflated chest after this, never live it down, he won't. You on the other hand… Your name on the plank an' everything! Amazin', lass, you never cease to amaze me."

She nodded, and instantly regretted it as her stomach did another flip and she released more soup. 

"Lucky you ate somethin', lassie, dry-heavin' is painful!"

Vala gurgled, a bubble oozing from her lips, taking flight, and popping. 

"Yeah, yeah… it's never very pretty." Grant sighed. "Anyone else and I'd say it was a waste of beer. This the first time you drink, lass?"

Vala's head was swimming, her eyelids drooped, and her lips trembled. 

"Lass? Ooh sorry... I'll take that as a yes."


	13. Motivation Proclamation

Motivation Proclamation

__

Spend your lazy, endless crazy days, inside my head,   
You're so selfish, you're not the only one who thinks he's dead   
I'm paid to smile, now I'm on trial for what you think I said   
But I never said that everything would be ok,   
And I never said that we would live to see another day   


"How'd Remus take it?"

"Oh, he cried and cried… and then some."

"Really?"

"Of course not. I'm only going back to school" Vala flicked through the magazine she picked up at the train station. "I suspect he's celebrating." Finding nothing of interest, she threw the magazine on the empty seat next to her. "Speaking of which, why are we going back early?"

Grant watched the trees run and hills tumble by. "No reason."

Vala squinted a bit. "Is that so…"

He glanced at her. "What are you getting at?"

She threw her arms up. "Oh nothing, nothing at all… it's just in the time I've known you you've never done anything without some reason or another. Now, whether that reason is a good one is debatable."

"Hmm…" He watched the rolling landscape again. 

"Grant?"

Distracted, "What?" 

"What's going on?"

He glanced at her again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" she moved across the compartment to sit next to him. "Why are you acting so odd? Just yesterday you were fine, and today… well, you're not."

He stared at her. 

"Grant-"

"Why do you care?"

"What?"

He shifted to face her better. "Why do you care what goes on in my life?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you always so concerned about me?"

He turned back to the window and muttered, "You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, is that so?" she almost laughed. "I've been through the graveyards and back. Please, enlighten me," she nearly mocked. 

Grant glared at a far away mountain. 

"Oh, Grant, don't be such a-"

He rounded on her. "Get a few dead friends and suddenly you think you know it all, do you? Think, 'Oh, that Grant, his problems can't be nearly as bad as mine. What could _possibly _hurt him?" Think you understand, do ya? Well you don't!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. Icily she said, "You don't have to be so nasty. I only wanted to know what was bothering you." She stood up. While walking back to her seat, "Curse a friend for wanting to help… You Slytherins are all the same." 

"How dare you! You don't-"

"No, how dare _you!_" she yelled in retort, rounding on him. "Honestly, I'm amazed! How _dare _you even turn this around on me!" In the quickness of light, her open palm met his cheek. She pointed a stern finger at him. "I simply asked how you were. You've been quiet and reserved all day. And to be frank, _my dear, _that's quite out of your norm! So if you want to cry and moan, then do it, but don't you _dare _bring my past into it!" She sat down in a huff.

Grant turned quietly to the window. After a few heated minutes had passed, he said in a voice so quiet it almost appeared to be a whisper, "I'm sorry." He looked down at his hands. "It's just… Well… Do you know how it feels to be homeless?" He looked up at her desperately. 

She blinked. "What?" A penny dropped. "But I thought-"

He shook his head. "No, I don't mean like that… I'm quite wealthy, really. Well, my family is anyhow." He dropped his eyes to his hands again. "You see… I had a home once… But then things changed. You see…" he fidgeted with his hands. "A home isn't made from bricks or wood or nails… a home is made from love. Corny, I know, but it's true. The structure of the house doesn't make it a home, the structure of the family does. You lose your family, and you lose your home." Finally, he looked at her.

"Grant, I… I don't think I understand. I thought you had-"

He shook his head again. "Not like that. I do have a family… a father and a mother. But what's the use of either if they're both cold and reserved? There's no comfort, no compassion, it's all so… cold. Do you understand?"

She sighed, and moved across the compartment again. She reached an arm around him. "Grant, when my parents…" She gulped. "When my parents died, I was hopeless. I had no home, no family… I was completely alone. And that felt horrible, oh so horrible." She closed her eyes momentarily. She reached her other arm across Grant's front. "But things change, Grant, they really do." A tear seeped from her eye. "You're gonna learn that there's other people out there." Her lips began to quiver. "You're gonna learn that there's _better_ people out there. And oh, Grant!" She pulled him closer, tears spilling from her eyes. "Oh Grant, the things you'll learn!"

Grant wrapped his arms around Vala. He sniffled into her hair. Silently, they held each other, comforting each other without words. 

~+~+~+~

Vala ducked into the nearest room. Saxon was around the next corner, and with luck he hadn't seen her. 

"I wouldn't have thought he was that horrible," a voice commented behind her.

Strucken like a deer in head lights, she turned to the source. Almost immediately, she breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me, Fae!" She rolled her eyes and stood up to inspect her surroundings. "Ah, Moaning Myrtle's… Figures." 

Fae peered at the girl through slightly squinted eyes. She blew out a puff of smoke. That's when Vala noticed the tightly wrapped cigarette pressed between Fae's middle and index finger. "You smoke?" 

Vala shook her head.

"You allergic?" she made a motion to put it out.

Vala shook her head again.

"Ah, good…" She relaxed. Fae stood at the opposite side of the bathroom, leaning against a wall, a nearby window letting in a draft. 

Vala shivered a bit. 

"What are you running from?" she asked, sucking on her homemade cigarette. "Or should I ask, Who?"

Vala sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's a long-"

"Your fiance?"

She stared at her. "You… You knew?"

"The whole school knows." She glanced to see how her cigarette was doing. "He's not the most subtle man…"

Vala sighed wearily. 

"Tell me about it," Fae agreed. "Given the gift of hearing, but sometimes I wish I couldn't listen."

Vala's eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

Fae shook her head, propelling herself from the wall. "Nevermind." She stared critically at her cigarette, and tossed it in a toilet. She patted her pockets and cursed under her breath. "Just as well figures." She wiped her hands on the back of her cloak and backed past Vala. She paused. Quietly, she commented, "It's a shame really… To see two lives wasted."

Vala stared at her. "Wha…" A thought struck her. "Wait!"

Fae stopped at the door, glancing over her shoulder to signify she was listening. 

"Dumbledore… Um, Dumbledore-"

"Lets on to more than he knows."

"Uh… yeah."

"Yes, leave at that." And she left.

Vala stood in the bathroom, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. _What was she talking about? And… is she really psychic? _But she knew just as well as everyone else what was said. Fae Mortel was an odd girl, nothing strange coming from Hufflepuff of course, but odd all the same. 

~+~+~+~

__

He's sleeping again… Vala glanced up from her notes. She frowned. _Nothing unusual. Maybe I should wake him._ She reached over the table, but stopped. _He can use the sleep._ She copied down a few more notes. _But…_ she glanced up again. _I do have something I want to ask him… Maybe he won't mind. _She began to reach for him, only to have her doubts. _He can be a mad bugger when awoken. But I want to know!_ Before she could lose her courage halfway across the table, she poke him. "Grant?" 

He grumbled, and turned his head the other way.

She poked him again. "Gra-ant?" 

He smacked his lips. 

"Grant!"

He squeezed his eyelids shut. "Go away," he mumbled. 

"Oh come on, Grant," she pleaded. "I need to ask you something." 

He opened his eyes. For a moment or two he simply stared at her, and then he finally rose his head. "What do you want?"

"Um… You know how I asked you about those ingredients a while back? Well, I was wondering if you found them all."

He glared at her. "You woke me up to ask me that?"

"Yes, do you have them?"

"Not on me!"

She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Well, _obviously, _but did you get them?"

"I can't believe you woke me up," he grumbled, fumbling for something in his pocket. "Here!" he tossed the list to her. "I collected everything that's checked."

She looked the note over. "You couldn't get 'Hair of Wherewolf"? It wasn't that hard of an ingredient."

"Hey, My father only had a few, and I wasn't keen on taking them. I only took what I hoped he wouldn't notice."

"Oh come now, Grant, some of these are so _easy!_ I can't believe you didn't get all of them."

He pointed a finger at her, something he must have picked up from Vala, "Hey, don't you make me do something I'll regret anything." 

"Oh Grant, I'm thankful, really I am… It's just, this needs to be brewed by this weekend. We _need _these supplies." 

"What's this weekend?" he asked with a yawn.

"Nothing, but the week after is the full moon."

"Pleasant. Hey, don't look at _me _like that! I don't know where we're gonna get them!"

She frowned. Then a thought struck her. She leaned forward and whispered, "What about Snape?" 

He threw his hands up. "Oh no, you can count _me _out!"

"But, Grant!"

He pushed his chair away from the table. "Don't 'but, Grant' me, I ain't doin' it, and that's final!"

She pouted. Then another idea struck her, and she had to grin. "Would you do it for a drink or two?"

A sly grin curled his lips. "I might do it for a few drinks and a pack of cigarettes."

She sat back. "You don't smoke."

"No, but I know a certain little witch that does." His grin grew.

Vala rolled her eyes again. "Fae Mortel?"

An expression passed Grant's face, which could only be taken as shock though it only lasted for a moment. "You know her?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point, why do you want her in on this?"

"Because she'd good in Divination."

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?" she asked, half amused and half bewildered. 

"Everything," he stated as if it were common knowledge. "Snape is a very unpredictable man. I like to have someone who knows what she's doing on my side."

"Hey, _I _know what I'm doing!" Vala defended.

"Yeah, su-ure."

"I do!"


	14. Spy

Spy

__

I see you from my spy plane, baby

I see you walking on the ground

I see you through my spy glasses, baby

I can see right through the ground

If you want to be a spy then you must really see

And you must really see if you want to be a spy like me

I might gaze on a submarine

I see your face smiling at me

Even when I close my eyes your silhouette is smiling at me

But you will never understand me because I have a special job

I wish I could break the spy glass

Set it free so we could be...

Picking absent-mindedly at a roll, Vala watched Grant negotiate with Fae. Grant showed the Hufflepuff a pack of cigarettes; Fae only pushed his hand down. Vala wasn't sure whether she'd taken the offer or not. 

Vala was so absorbed she didn't even realize someone slide into the seat next to her. 

"We won't be going for a walk this Friday night."

"Wha-" she begin, turning in her seat. She froze, a piece of bread halfway to her mouth, staring at Saxon. 

He frowned and pushed her frozen hand down. "I'm busy Friday, but there is a dinner party at my father's on Saturday night. I'd like you to be there." 

"Uh…"

"Meet me at seven at the front doors."

"Uh…"

"And Vala, please eat something… you look something dreadful." He shook his head and stepped out of the bench. 

"Uh… okay." Her eyes followed him to the door, and then another guest took the seat next to her.

"She says she'll do it."

"Huh?" She directed her gaze to Grant. "Oh! Excellent."

He held up a finger, "But only on one condition."

"Oh, Merlin's Beard…" she cursed, turning towards her plate. "What does she want?"

"Another pack of cigarettes."

"_Another?_" she exasperated.

"Yes."

"How much does she smoke?"

"A lot." He rested an elbow on the table and bit into an apple. "She's a hacker, Vala, a skilledhacker, and she needs her concentration as well as motivation. I'm not sure how she got into the habit, but cigarettes help her think clearer. She mentioned something about the smoke."

Vala wrinkled her nose. "Can't she burn incense? At least it smells pleasant." 

"'Fraid not." He pulled his elbow off the table. "She's fair about it though, says she'll take the other pack after the deed is done."

She dropped her roll onto her plate. "And remind me why we're employing her?"

"Because… She can get Snape out of his office, and besides, I love being surrounded by beautiful women." He winked at her, and stepped out of the bench. 

"Grant, wait." She grabbed hold of his cloak sleeve.

"Yes, Lass?"

"Saxon uh… Saxon just invited me to his father's for a Saturday night dinner party. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Grant stood thoughtfully for a moment. At length, he shook his head. "No, I can't say that I do."

"Oh, okay… Thanks anyway."

"No problem, and hey I'll pick up the smokes and drinks for you. Just be sure to pay me back later."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to put that on my To-Do List," she muttered sarcastically, turning back to her plate. 

~+~+~+~

"How about we combine the two? Black roses could be overpowering by themselves, but if we throw in some colorful lupines it might just even out." The wedding director pushed her thin-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. 

"Kind of like a battle between light and darkness?" Saxon tried.

Vala sighed. He had to work on that whole mysteriously dark side of his; it was getting weak. Or maybe she was just getting used to it.

"Sure. Hmm… You mentioned you wanted to get married in December." She flipped through a few pages. "What about New Years?"

"Uh… That's in January," Vala reminded, raising an eyebrow. 

She waved a hand dismissingly. "Yes, yes… But wouldn't that be romantic?"

Vala glanced at Saxon. "I guess so."

The director smiled. "Great." She turned back to the papers. "Now these requests for a cake… I don't care too much for the raven/snake idea, but the red filling sounds delicious. Maybe strawberry?"

"Actually, I was thinking black-" 

Vala elbowed him. "Strawberries are fine," she confirmed. 

Saxon scowled. "Is that alright, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yeah, whatever." He looked out the window. 

"Excellent. Now, Miss. Amoureux, if you'd like me to direct you to some lovely wedding gown-"

"I already have one."

Saxon stared at her. The director looked like she'd just lost a game of poker. "Very well, then. And Mr. Malfoy I can direct you to some-"

"I already have one," he cut off.

Now the director looked as if she'd lost her diamond ring in a crazy game of poker. 

__

She's a nice lady, Vala thought, _but a bit of a control freak. _

"Very well," she attempted not to huff. She checked her watch. "I believe that is all for now." She extended a card to Vala. "And if you have any questions, you can reach me here." 

Slowly, Vala took the card. Saxon stood up, and she followed him out of the office. 

"Ta, ta, and _do _come by again, we should discuss the invitations next time!" she called after the couple. 

Once they were out of hearing range, "I don't like her."

Vala didn't bother to look at him. "I'm sorry to hear that, however she is all that is left."

"She's doing this wedding for herself," he commented.

Vala thought for a moment. She had gotten the same impression between the planning and one-sided discussions. Their opinion didn't much matter if the thin-rimmed, boisterous director liked it. 

"And I don't want to get married on New Years."

__

She's trying to make it so romantic… I wonder what she's making up for. 

"And I specifically said _dead_ roses."

She stopped. She touched Saxon's arm. He turned to look at her. "What?"

"Let someone have their fairy tale ending, will you?"

He shook his head and turned to walk away. He threw his arms up in defeat. "Yeah, yeah… whatever!" 

~+~+~+~

An empty classroom served perfectly for an impatient seventh year, a laid back one, and a hacker. 

Fae sat cross-legged on a desk. Her eyelids twitched. "Dragon scales… beetle eyes… how did that potion go again? Blasted, if only I were the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… Anyone can remember a spell, but it takes a skilled master to understand potions…"

Vala rolled her eyes. Personally, she thought Fae was making it up for show, but Grant insisted they were Snape's true thoughts. 

"I wonder if the House Elves have made any pumpkin pie… Yes, some pumpkin pie would really hit the spot." 

Vala pressed her ear against the closed door, she heard footsteps. Who's, she couldn't say, but she was sure Fae would insist they were Snape's. 

"He's gone," Fae said, lighting a cigarette.

Vala opened the door and Grant roll-dived across the hall, standing up once he was safe in Snape's classroom. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but Grant was extremely agile. She watched him disappear into Snape's office, then she cracked the door.

"How's the wedding coming?" 

"Hmm? Oh… fine."

Fae nodded. "That's nice to hear." A puff of smoke escaped her. A smile curled her lips.

"What's so funny?"

She tapped her cigarette on the side of the desk. "Nothing," she looked away, a smirk well in place. "Nothing, at all."

Vala moved closer. "Why are you smiling?"

Fae looked up. "I hear things, Vala… Oh, the things I hear!" She burst into a round of laughs. 

"You're ridiculous," she cursed. "Telling stories and lies for anyone who'll listen. They're fools, to listen to you." 

Only a well-placed smirk was left of the laughter. "You didn't seem to think that when I told you about Raissa, my dear fool." 

Vala stared at her. Then, "You lied, didn't you! And for God's sake, put that out!" She grabbed Fae's cigarette and threw it on the ground. 

Fae sobered. She shook her head, "No, not completely.

She crossed her arms. "Which parts where true then?" she demanded.

Fae smiled again. "I guess you'll never know, will you." She lit another cigarette.

Vala fumed. _I'm gonna take that and-_

Fae held up a hand. "Please, don't even think about it." 

Her shoulders sagged. "What?"

Fae stared at her. She sucked on her cigarette, then finally said, "I told you, I was given the gift of hearing, and I'd really rather not listen."

Vala wound up to slap her. Fae blocked the hit and laughed, "That's it! Start acting spontaneous! Then not even I know your next move!"

"Ugh, I hate you!" _Take this, you-_

"No, no!" Fae shouted. "You can't think!" 

"Is there nothing I can keep from you?" Vala shouted, swinging at Fae. 

Fae caught her fist. "Yes," and pushed Vala back. "But don't fight me until you've learned to." 

Vala huffed, and dropped against a wall. 

"There are ways to control it, you know…" Fae examined her bent cigarette. "The thing is, we don't even think about it… We think we're safe in our own minds, we never even suspect that someone might drop by to listen in."

"What the hell are you talking about? There's no we, there's only you's and they's. You never have a second thought, never even consider someone might be listening to your thoughts. You never have to worry about it." 

Fae quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so? You believe that, do you?"

Vala stared at her.

Fae attempted to unbend her cigarette without breaking it. "You think I'm carefree, do you? I'm not. Just because I can hear others thoughts doesn't mean nobody can hear mine."

"It doesn't matter," she said sourly. "I bet you like it, listening to everyone's thoughts. Knowing everything about our lives. It's only justice that someone should hear yours."

Fae sighed. "You really don't understand."

"What's there to understand?" Vala snapped. "You've been listening in on everything I've been thinking about! You do it to everyone! It's-It's-"

"Not fair?" she offered. "You're right, it's not… Not to me, not to anyone."

"Not to you? What do you-"

"Do you think I like it?" Fae interrupted, glaring at Vala. "Knowing what everyone's thinking? It's more of a curse, really." She sucked on her cigarette. "Let me ask you this, How often do you think about your deep dark secrets? Not very often from what I know. Nobody does." She rolled her eyes. "Everybody thinks about their hair, or their crushes, or if snuggles will be okay on his own. It's tiring really." Breaking her cigarette by accident, she tossed it. "I get sick of hearing about everyone's problems. So I try to block it out, but that doesn't always work. Sometimes I _can't _block everyone out, and that's when it gets worse… That's when I hear the darkest, most disturbing thoughts. I never know whom they belong to. No, nobody ever thinks, 'Hi, my name is Kristen and here I am thinking about a killing I witnessed.' No, nobody ever _introduces _themself. Know why? Because we outta be safe in our minds, but you know what? We're not safe. Not in our minds, not anywhere." 

Vala sat down on a chair. "I always wondered why I never saw you," she began. "I mean, we've been going to school together for seven years now, and I've never seen you until this year."

"Ah, I see you're finally catching on," she said sarcastically, padding her pocket for another cigarette.

"Have you always avoided crowds then?"

"No, just when I realized what I was hearing." She unfolded her legs, and leaned back on her palms. She stared with unseeing eyes at the ceiling. "I couldn't hear things at home. Maybe there was no connection, maybe I just didn't want to hear things… Who knows? I only heard things in crowds… I thought I was hearing angels… I thought someone somewhere was watching over me." She breathed a chuckle. "Oh, I was so stupid… Then I came to Hogwarts and it only got worse." She sighed, and glanced at Vala. "I didn't know what I was hearing, but it wasn't long before I did. You know… I remember the exact moment when I did, too. There I was sitting at the breakfast table one morning, and the boy next to me couldn't pull his mind off the food. He just couldn't believe how much there was… So I listened, and he grabbed everything he thought about. It was no coincidence, they were his real thoughts."

"Were you scared?" Vala asked softly.

Fae glanced at her. She shook her head, looking away. "No, at first I thought it was normal, so I tried to talk to the boy--with my mind. I suggested he eat a muffin instead because in my humble opinion they were more filling. Oh the look on his face! He looked around piercingly, wondering where the thoughts had come from."

"So he could hear you?"

"Oh yes, and I could hear him… But soon I realized he could _only_ hear me. Then I recognized my gift, and I started to use it. I never studied for a test, I never asked for anything; I relied on everyone else… But people are unreliable."

Vala, staring glassy-eyed at the floor, nodded. 

"We all must grow," Fae said quietly, "But now we have more urgent matters on hand… Did you hear that?"

Vala looked up. "Hear what?"

"That's what I thought… Shit," she pulled her legs in. She began to rub her temples, "We've got some interference--Bloody House Elves… 'All we've got is pumpkin juice.' _Pumpkin juice_? Bah! All I wanted was some pie; pie really would've hit the spot… It was just one of those once-in-a-lifetime temp-Mmm… But you know, some juice doesn't sound so bad." Fae's eyelids twitched.

Vala held her breath.

Slowly, Fae opened her eyes. She smiled at Vala. "What's taking that boy so long?"

Vala exhaled, and shook her head. "Got me. Can't you tap into his mind?"

"Uh… I'd rather not," Fae said, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

Vala stared. The door creaked open before she had time to speak. 

Grant brushed several sandy blonde tresses from his eyes. "Whew, that was definitely worthy of several beers."

"With an Irishman, what isn't?" Fae asked sarcastically. 

"What happened?"

"Nothing… But you wouldn't _believe _the collection that man's got! And his handwriting!" He shoved a small bag at Vala. "Take your ingredients, I'm washing my hands of this!" 

"Thanks, Pilate, you're a dear," Vala said, kissing his cheek. 

__

(A/N: I am so incredibly sorry about how late this chapter is! You see, my internet crashed late last week. Since my dad was out of town, I couldn't get it fixed until last night. To make it up to you, I'm uploading chapters 14, 15, 16. Oh, and I've finally written the time jump, though you won't read it in these chapters I expect you will before the end of the week. Thanks for your patience- Vouivre.)


	15. The Good Fight

The Good Fight

__

Does it comfort you to know you fought the good fight?  
Basking in your victory,  
hollow and alone  
to boast your bitter bragging rights to anyone who'll listen.  
While you're left with nothing tangible to gain.  


"Eep, ow, ow," Vala whined; it'd definitely been too long since she'd worn earrings. Her ear was a flaming red. "Damn, I hope that cools down before seven," she whispered to herself. She smudged light blue eye shadow on her eyelids, and lined them in black; it'd been awhile since she'd worn makeup too, but a woman never forgets how to wear her face. 

She hadn't asked if she could borrow the makeup, but she doubted her roommate would care, or notice for that matter. Critically, she examined the hem of her sleeve. Luckily, she'd lent the robe to a friend the year before. Not so luckily, the girl had stretched the chest and broken the seams in the cuffs. 

Vala fingered the corsage; it wasn't a real flower, but it was still pretty. It was heat activated, and whenever the dress robe was worn the flower unfolded in a mass of deep blues and sparkling silver. She sighed, and ripped the corsage off. She tossed the flower on the bed, where it immediately budded in defeat. 

__

I used to think it was pretty, now I just think it's tacky… she thought weakly. 

She lifted the hair off her shoulders, and dropped it again. "That won't do…" she whispered. She glanced around, and grabbed a box of bobby pins from her roommate's trunk. Spotting a hair clip, she grabbed that as well. Bending in half, she clipped her hair up, and standing upright, she pulled the loose strands back with bobby pins. 

For once, she actually asked another roommate if she could borrow a pair of heels. The girl had asked the occasion, and then insisted she wear a pair of midnight blue, three-inch high heels. Vala was reluctant, but took what she could get. Now she eyed the heels, _what was she thinking? I'll kill myself in these._

Regardless, she grabbed the heels and hurried down the dorm steps. 

While leaving the common room, "Hey, Vala!" Geneva hurried alongside her. "Ooh, where are you going all dressed up to the nines?"

"Dinner party," she replied coldly, looking forward.

"Oh, doesn't that sound fun! I once went to a dinner party, and there was this boy, and oh my goodness wasn't he handsome! And so I asked him to dance, but he said he had a girlfriend, and that made me real upset, but I didn't let it bother me too much, and so I saw this other boy, and he wasn't as cute, but I believe he fancied me on accounts he asked me to dance to a slow song with him, and I was just so…"

Vala rolled here eyes. _Always count on Geneva to speak in one continuous sentence, never taking time for breath_. And so Geneva continued to talk about nonsense things, skipping from boys to classes to food to boys again. Vala sighed. _Grant really outta reconsider… Geneva's more his type than Fae. Neither likes to shut up. _

"…and it was so much fun, but then I drank a little too much champagne and I was sick for weeks! But that's alright because this boy, Jimmy, came to see me…"

She sighed again. _At least Grant talks about things worth listening to… Most of the time anyhow. And who gets a headache on champagne?_

Vala bent to strap her shoes on. She stood up. "Sorry, Geneva, but this is my stop." She started to walk down the stairs. "I'll… I'll see you around." She waved behind her, and hurried down the stairs, careful not to trip over her own feet. 

"You surprise me Vevila, conversing with Mudbloods?"

Vala rolled her eyes; she really wasn't in the mood. "You know just as well as me that dropping Geneva Hutchins is a difficult task all in itself."

"I've always hated Hufflepuffs," he sneered. "Stupid, they are."

__

You wouldn't say that if you met Fae… She'd give you a run for your money. "Are you ready?" she asked dryly. 

"Yes, let's go."

~+~+~+~

Idiots breed idiots, jerks breed jerks, brainiacs breed brainiacs, and against all laws of nature, beautiful people breed ugly children. 

That was the only thought on Vala's mind as she was guided through the tight crowd of people. She watched snubbing mothers hold onto their bratty children, and tired fathers wrinkle their brows as they all shared the same thought, _How did **that **come from me? _

She watched sneering eyes glint at her, and lean over to whisper to a friend. From time to time she could phrases such as, 

"-a fine sight for the eyes, but doesn't quite cut it in the right places… if you get what I mean-" 

"-she'll _never_ bear children with _those _hips-" 

"-man, wouldn't I like to-"

Vala tightened her grip on Saxon's arm. Her eyes dropped, and she lowered her chin a bit. 

"Look up," he hissed under his breath. "Don't back down so easily."

She rose her chin, and glanced around haughtily. Why should she feel inferior? 

Saxon stopped, and Vala, following his lead, did as well. Everyone took a step back, forming a circle around Vala and Saxon. She tried not to look around, but she couldn't help wondering what was happening. 

"Don't jump back," he hissed quietly. 

She looked at him. _Wha-_

There was a loud bang, and a cloud of smoke erupted. Vala's eyes widened, the smoke drifted closer, and she coughed. 

She squinted to see what had happened. The smoke cleared, and a tall, dark man, who defied all the laws of nature, stepped forward. As he drew closer Vala could pick out details from his profile. He had thick, black hair and emotionless blue eyes. In a way, he looked like Saxon. An older Saxon, of course. A more handsome, uncaring Saxon… a more dangerous Saxon.

Saxon moved back, and into the crowd surrounding the two. 

The man circled Vala. "What's your name, my dear?" he asked quietly.

"Vevila Amoureux," she replied in a hush.

Slowly, he made his way around her, and came to face her. "French?" he asked mildly.

"Yes."

"Hmm…" he began to circle her again, rubbing his chin. "You are related to Jack and Virginia Amoureux?" he asked, coming to face her again.

Her brows furrowed slightly. "Yes… They were my parents."

"Ah yes, a sad story in itself… I am most sorry to hear about them." He picked a loose thread from her robes, and stared at it; it was from the corsage she'd removed earlier that night. He let the thread drop to the ground, and rubbed his fingers together. Carefully, he lifted a stray hair by her cheek, then swept it behind her ear. 

"Please, turn," he directed. 

She stared at him oddly, but did as he requested. She caught Saxon's eyes, who nodded carefully at her. The man watched her hips, and feet. 

"You can dance?"

Again, she stared at him. "Yes…" she answered slowly. 

"Excellent." He rose a hand, and a low, trembling music mourned through the hall. He bowed to her. Stiffly, she curtsied. He took up her hand and kissed it. "Pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Amoureux, I am Ares Malfoy, Saxon's father…" He stood straight, holding out his hands for her. "And now, may I have this dance?"

Ares Malfoy stunned the crowd, and everyone acted quite out of their norm around him. For instance, Vala accepted the offer to dance, and Saxon stepped down. 

~+~+~+~

"So what was it like?" Grant asked, dropping henbane into the boiling cauldron.

"Odd, to say the least," Vala replied.

"You really met Saxon's father?"

"Yeah," she said casually, sitting against the wall. 

"So what's he like?"

"I've heard he's quite the eye-catcher," Fae put in. 

Vala tilted her head to the side. "Yes, he's very handsome… in a sadistic, scary kind of way."

"Sort of like Saxon? The dark, mysterious way… I'm sure Malfoy Senior is very sexy." 

Vala stared at Fae. Up until now she hadn't heard anything about appealing men, but then she supposed there must be something deep down in Fae that resembled a teenage girl.

"Grant, I swear I'll gut you like a fish if you even considerthat again!" 

__

Very deep down, Vala added as an afterthought. 

"Sorry," Grant apologized, blushing. 

Fae sighed sharply. "So what are we making?" she asked, leaning towards the cauldron, a cigarette pressed between her lips. 

Vala waved the smoke away, "Don't you know?"

"No, all I can pick up in here are Mr. Slick's thoughts over here." She jerked her head towards Grant. "And those are always an ear-full." 

Grant blushed a deeper crimson. 

Vala dropped in some opium. "Hmm… It's a potion that _should _turn me into a werewolf, but I think it's debatable…" 

Grant glared. "It _will _turn you into a werewolf."

Fae stared at him in disbelief, her jaw dropping. "You've seen the Loup Coeur potion done to someone?" 

He shifted uncomfortable. "I've seen lots of things…"

She nodded and looked away, softly sucking on her cigarette. 

Vala handed the hemlock to Grant. "Here, grind these up… or something." 

"When will you be taking this?" Fae asked, pulling the cigarette from her lips. 

"Um…" she searched through her bag for an ingredient. "Next weekend… It's a full moon on Saturday, I'll be taking it at midnight." _Where is it, I just-_

"The parsley's in the front pouch," Fae offered, helping Grant with the hemlock. 

"Oh, uh…" she opened the front pocket, and found the parsley. "Uh, thanks." 


	16. With a Little Help From My Friends

With a Little Help From My Friends

__

What would you think if I sang out of tune,

Would you stand up and walk out on me. 

Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,

And I'll try not to sing out of key. Oh. 

"What are you doing home?" 

Vala held a hand up to her collarbone. "Remus, I'm surprised, I'd of thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am, I am… it's just…" he wrung his hands, and Vala walked past him. 

"I'll be out by Sunday night."

"Its not that it's that tomorrow's a full moon…" 

She kissed his cheek. "Don't be such a worry, I'll manage on my own. I have before." Whistling, she strutted down the hallway, restraining herself from breaking into a skip. "Oh, isn't it nice to be home?" she asked, dropping her overnight bag. "God Remus, get some light in here!" she said, ripping the curtains open.

"… So why'd you come home?" he asked, entering the living room. 

"Hmm? Oh, no reason… Just thought you might like some company," she said innocently. She dropped unto the couch, and an array of dust shot up around her. "Geez Remus… You're practically a hermit, what's the deal?" 

"You know that," he said, steadily eyeing her. He turned into the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Uh… no thanks, I'm not thirsty."

"How's school?" he asked, sitting down with a cup of steaming tea. 

"Fine, as usual," she replied dryly, picking at his sofa. 

He looked her over again. "Why don't we go to Diagon Alley today?"

She looked up. "Why?"

"Well… Looking over your robes, I supposed…"

She waved a hand at him. "Never mind that, Remus… these robes are completely fine."

"Yes, but I figured you might want some of your own."

"Do you mind if I wear them?"

"No, but-"

"Well, then I don't care."

"All right, if you insist…" He sipped his tea. 

"I do," she smiled, winking. 

~+~+~+~

"Ah, come in, come in… take a seat."

"I intend on it, brother," Lucius said dryly, slithering his way into a chair.

Ares held up a sheet of parchment. "Do you know what this is?"

He glanced at it. "I can't say that I do… please, do enlighten me."

"It's a letter from Saxon with some interesting news. Interesting news indeed…" He directed his gaze to the parchment, then let it drop on the desk. He folded his hands, and leaned forward. "Seems he and Vevila will be tying the knot on New Years."

"How romantic." Lucius shifted in the seat, resting his elbow on the armrest, his finger lightly caressing his forehead. "What's your point?"

"Remember Jack and Virginia Amoureux?"

Lucius sighed. "What are you getting at, Ares?"

"Do you remember them?" he insisted.

"No, I don't."

"Maybe this will refresh your memory… It's a clear, summer night. Oddly enough, a couple take place in front of a blazing fire. Their sixteen-year-old daughter has locked herself in her room. Nobody bothers with the girl because they figure, 'She's only a girl, what can she do?' Besides, they figure she'll die in the blaze. The parents were disposed of, but what of the girl? She seems to have escaped."

Nothing seemed to be clicking with Lucius. "And this has to do with… what?"

Ares sighed. "Put two and two together Lucius--they were Vevila's parents! She survived the blast!"

"Did she see anything?"

"Apparently not, but all the same…"

"Then who cares? Ares, I'm surprised, losing sleep over a _girl?_"

"Ah, but Lucius, little girls have a tendency of growing up into strong women. She has a curious past, Lucius… Let those pent up emotions out and lord alone knows what may happen."

"Are you a religious man, Ares?"

"You alone know my only lord is the Dark Lord."

Lucius stroked his chin. "Hmm…"

He stood up, firmly placing his hands on the desk. "Help me, brother, help me break her… Help me break her like I helped you break Narcissa." 

"Help you break her like I helped you break Mirabelle?"

Leaning his head in, Ares sighed; he was losing this battle. He looked at his brother. "You have a son."

"Draco is but a child, Ares."

"Yes, but even little boys must grow."

"I see… One hand must wash the other then?"

"Exactly."

Lucius dropped his hand unto the armrest. "Very well then… I trust Venus* is well?"

"Yes, and Narcissa?"

"The miscarriage seemed to have set her back, but she's quite fine now."

"Yes, Venus and I are stuck on one child as well…"

*Ares' wife is named Mirabelle, but she is nicknamed Venus for her extreme beauty and infamous past. 

~+~+~+~

"Shouldn't you be going?"

"Yes."

"Well?" Vala watched Remus as he washed dishes. "Are you even listening to me?" 

"Yes," he answered automatically. 

She crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Then what'd I just say?" she tested.

Finally, he looked at her. "Hmm?" He rose his eyebrows at her. 

Vala sighed sharply. "The sun's going down, Remus, and tonight's a full moon. I'd suggest you get a move on unless you want to convert me over to lycanthropy." She smiled wickedly at him. "Which, of course, I would not object to."

Remus shook his head, wiping his hands off on a towel. "No, I definitely do _not _want that to happen to you." He stared unblinkingly out the window. "Not to anyone, but certainly not to you…" 

"Really?" _He doesn't mean that… Just wait till he sees what happens. _"Then you better leave. Look wolf-boy, the sun's going down!"

"Right, right." He shuffled around, tidying things up along his way. "Don't answer the fireplace, don't let strangers in, don't talk to strangers--in fact, _never_ talk to strangers." 

Vala rolled her eyes as she lead Remus to the front door.

"Don't leave the stove on, lock the door immediately after me, stay inside _all _night-"

"_Goodbye, _Remus!" she stressed, ushering him out the door. "I'll be fine, really, I will!"

"Oh, and I… I um," he fidgeted with his robes. Vala smiled at that, he reminded her of a nervous boy. "Take care of yourself, Vala."

__

How cute, he can't even say it… "Yes, I love you too, Remus." 

Relieved, he smiled.

She waved a finger at him. "Now remember what we talked about--if you see a little girl in a red hood, you let her be, you hear me?"

"Pfft, goodbye Vala."

She smirked, and closed the door behind him, quickly bolt-locking it. 

~+~+~+~

"Oh huzzah! Who's the crossword champ?" Vala congratulated herself. _I wonder how I ever got so good… Oh, that's right. _Sirius had turned her on to them. Surprisingly, he was a crossword junkie himself. Not a quality you'd expect from a man like him… That is, if you didn't know him well enough. Sirius was full of little odd quirks. _He was certainly full of surprises, _she thought sourly.

She checked her watch. "Hmm…" _I've still got some time until midnight, but I'd feel better if I started setting up. _She glanced out the window. _Somewhere out there there's a lone werewolf… It'd be so much easier if he'd only bite me. That's a sure thing… Unlike this potion. _She pulled a heavy, round, corked bottle from her pocket. _But, Remus would never forgive himself if he were held responsible. It's better this way. _

A knock so silent, she thought she might have imagined it, was heard. Then again, only louder. She stood up slowly, slipping the potion into her pocket. "I wonder who…" She made her way down the hallway, and peered through the peephole. "I don't believe it…" She unlocked the door, and swung it open. 

"Good evening, Miss Amoureux."

"Don't good evening me," she snapped. "And you, put that cigarette out before you come in."

"Sorry to barge, lass," Grant apologized, walking past her. 

"You see, we were in the neighborhood and thought we'd drop by," Fae said casually, entering the flat. 

"In the neighborhood my--Grant!" 

He stared at her innocently. "Me?"

She slapped his hand. "Remus wouldn't be keen on you touching that… Just think, what if you broke it?"

"What is it?" he asked, staring at it curiously.

"Well, it's quite obviously-"

"A crystal ball," Fae finished. "May I?"

"Well, I… I don't know."

With careful hands, Fae picked up the crystal ball and took a seat on the nearest sofa. "It's a very old one… Not as old as McGonagall, mind you, but still quite old." She ran her hand across it. "I'm sure it's full of-" She stiffened and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

"Oh my God! Is she having a seizure?" Grant asked frantically. 

"I-I don't know! Fae? Fae!"

"Wait," Grant stopped Vala from shaking Fae. "I remember reading about this… I'm not sure, but I think she's seeing something." 

Fae blinked. She shook her head. "Quite sorry," she frowned, handing the crystal ball back. "I've seemed to have faded for a moment there." 

"Faded? You, you got all freaked! Your eyes rolled back and everything!" Vala exasperated. 

She sighed. "Yes, I have a tendency to do that from time to time… What does Remus look like?"

"What? I don't know! What just happened here?" She handed the ball to Grant. 

Fae shrugged. "Nothing really. I was just listening in on some secrets… Do you mind if I look over a picture or two of Remus? Possibly a few from his childhood? Maybe around Hogwarts time?" 

"What?" Vala wiped her forehead. "Yeah, whatever… Follow me. I think he keeps a box of photos on the top shelf of his closet."

~+~+~+~

"Who's this?" Fae asked, pointing to a couple. 

Vala carefully took the picture from Fae. A young woman with long, blazing red hair kissed a man with black, shaggy hair on the cheek. "That'd be Lily and James Potter. It's before they got married, but I wouldn't mistake those two for anyone else," she smiled. 

"Oh, who are these four?" 

Vala looked at the picture Fae held. "Why… That would be Peter Pettigrew, that's James again, that one's my Remus." She'd pointed each young man out, save the last one. "And well…" she looked back to the stack of pictures she held, busily shuffling through them. "Well, that last one would be Sirius Black."

"Oh…"

"Yes. Who'd think that innocent boy would turn into a criminal? Certainly not us," she said stiffly. 

"Hey, what's this?" Grant asked, not listening to their conversation. He blew the dust off. "Woah." He scrunched up his nose and sneezed. He sniffled and looked at his hands. "Eeeww…. Better wash this…" he looked around. "Ah, here's some wa-" He shoved his hands into the Pensieve.

"Grant!" Vala dropped the pictures and hurried to the Pensieve. She shot a drastic look at Fae "He's gone in!" She looked into the whirling water. "Ah, fu-" She began, reaching into the bowl. 

Fae shook her head, returning to the pictures. "Someone outta put those two on a leash… Ah, here's what I was looking for."

~+~+~+~

Vala landed heavily on a bumpy object. "Ow, Go-"

"Oomph, would you mind getting off me?"

She almost cheered. "Oh, Grant, I'm so--say, where are we?"

Grant struggled to move out from under her. "Your guess is as good as mine," He replied, shrugging her off. "What happened?"

Vala pulled herself up and subconsciously dusted off her robes. Taking a look around, "A forest, I guess… You know, that lady at the store told me this would happen. She said if we touched the memories in the Pensieve that we could be taken into one."

A scream echoed through the forest. Vala moved towards it, but Grant held her back. "Careful now, lass, we don't want to get tangled up in someone else' memory."

She rolled her eyes. "We can't change the past; it's already happened… Didn't you hear anything she told us? It's only a memory, it's not like someone can _see _us."

In a swirl of cloaks and skin, a boy ran past them. 

"Oh my-" A large, growling wolf swept by. 

Vala gulped. "I think I know where we are…" 


	17. The Memory Remains

The Memory Remains

__

Heavy rings on fingers wave  
Another star denies the grave  
See the nowhere crowd  
Cry the nowhere cheers of honor  
Like twisted vines that grow  
Hide and swallow mansions whole  
And dim the light of an already  
Faded prima donna  
  


"Was that-"

"I think so." She tugged on Grant's sleeve, "Let's follow them."

"Vala, I don't know--I mean, think about it," he hesitated.

"Honestly Grant, it's _only _a memory," she exasperated, pulling him along.

He swung her to face him. "No Vala, it's not just a memory… It's Remus' memory and we shouldn't be here." 

She breathed a sigh of disbelief. "Be real Grant," and turned away. She stepped over a root, glanced behind her, and saw Grant standing still. _Fine, suit yourself, _she fumed silently. Her pace quickened and soon she was running after the streaming wolf. Occasionally she saw its tail flick in and out of the trees. She climbed over an upturned tree, ducked under some vines, and nearly tripped over a root.

Vala skidded to a halt. The boy, tears streaking his cheeks, stood against a tree. The wolf, a low growl rolling from it, cornered him. 

The nine-year-old memory of Remus pushed against the tree. "No, no, no…" he repeated, shaking his head.

Vala knew that expression; it was the look you got when you were pleading for a change of events. It was the look you got when you asked for forgiveness, assuring you'll never wrong another soul. Pleading and begging of an unseen force to help you, to take you away. To suddenly wake up in your bed and find you've only been dreaming.

But as all things, it was real, and there was no escaping that.

He squeezed his eyes shut. _No, he'll still be there when you open your eyes… He's not leaving until he's played his part. _

The wolf jumped forward, Remus threw his hands up in defense, an arm shielding his face. Vala closed her eyes, she knew what would happen next; he'd be bitten on the arm, and he'd turn into a werewolf.

__

All women love animals, Vala, but they can do without the fur. And that's why Remus is popular with the ladies. 

Not **all **women like animals, Sirius. 

Yes, but the ones that don't are scary feminists, and it's better not to get mixed up with that type. 

Both the memories in Vala's mind and the one unraveling in front of her faded. 

The air thickened and bright street lamps lit up the damp cobblestones. 

She heard voices behind her. 

"Where are we?" a man squeaked.

Vala turned at it and recognized a short, chubby man she'd learn to call Peter.

The man to his right inhaled the air. He slapped the shorter man on the back. "Welcome to Rue de Maitresses."

"Roo duh what?" he attempted to pronounce.

"Rue de Maitresses," a man with downcast eyes echoed. "It's a street of hookers." 

The memories walked through Vala. _That was-_

"Street of Mistresses, Remus, street of _mistresses,_" Sirius corrected. 

She spun around to watch them.

"What's the difference?" he replied. "Mistresses, hookers, whores… They're all the same." 

"And that's where you're wrong, Remus," Sirius said wisely. He swung an arm across Peter's shoulders. Vala followed more closely. "Here's a little lesson for you," he shot a look at Remus, "And you'd do well to listen in."

Remus smiled faintly. "Sure, Sirius, whatever you say…" Though he didn't look as though he wanted to be anywhere near Rue de Maitresses. Neither did Peter, but he had the more confused, unsure what to expect expression as opposed to Remus' tired, and yearning to go home one. 

Sirius pointed at an unattractive woman who wore next to nothing. "You see that tramp? And I call her a tramp because that's exactly what she is. She's not pretty, but she makes that up with revealing clothes. She prances around half naked hoping someone will take an interest in her and give her a bed for the night. She gives you half the enjoyment and charges you twice the price… And she's still there when you wake up in the morning."

"And that's bad?" Peter half-guessed, half-asked. 

Vala rolled her eyes. _Yes, straight from Sirius' book: The Discovery of Women. _

"Yes." He pointed to another woman across the street. She was fairly attractive, and covered more of her body. "Over there we have what I like to call a hooker. She'll caress your skin and breathe your name, but she's only interested in the money. She doesn't enjoy her work, but she needs the money… And so she acts playful, but don't let yourself be fooled. She's not quite as low as a tramp, but she still believes fewer clothing makes a happier man. Nonetheless, her biggest fault is her urgency to leave. She'll only let you keep her for a few hours, then she takes her money and leaves."

"Oh," Peter said. 

__

Poor chap, she thought, _He always filled his head with such lies._ She shook her head, but continued to follow. 

The three walked further down the street. Two women stood together, leaning over and posing for passing men and the occasional woman. Vala briefly glanced around. Save the prostitutes, or whatever Sirius wished to call them, there really weren't that many women around. Though she used to live a fairly sheltered life, she could guess why. 

Vala followed in the slow steps of the men, listening to Sirius' lesson. "Those are whores," Sirius explained. "They come in groups of two. Sometimes more. And they only sell in groups, so if you're not in the mood to spend a pretty sickle, steer clear of them. However, if you're feeling down and need extra love, they're right up your alley."

Peter's eyes were slowly growing larger and rounder. Sirius grinned. They continued to walk. 

"What about her?" Peter whispered, pointing at the shadows of an alley. Both Remus and Sirius gently swung their heads in the spoken direction. Tilting their heads back, Remus rose an eyebrow, and they both looked forward. 

"That would be a dominatrix," Remus answered.

"Remus!" Vala expressed in disbelief. "And how would-" _Oh yeah, they can't hear me, _she remembered when no acknowledgment of her was hinted. 

"Yes, you don't want to mix with that bunch." Sirius shook his head. "They're for the more kinky types… leather, whips… pointy shoes… sharp teeth." 

Remus shot a glance at Sirius. He bit his tongue and continued to walk. 

"I thought you said they were mistresses," Peter pointed out meekly.

"No, no," Sirius said, "These are not mistresses--those are mistresses." He bent slightly to stand at Peter's height, pointing towards a small group of women surrounding a lamppost. Vala squinted. One stood against the lamppost, her arms crossed and a thoughtful expression on her face, another rested against the back of a bench, staring up at the stars, a third sat on the bench, daintily smoking a cigarette. They were all fully dressed, but with a few gaps and opening their more interesting features were hinted and exposed. 

"Several things make a mistress, but the main factor is that she is French."

"French?" Peter asked, looking up at Sirius.

"Yes, French… She's thoughtful in conversation, gentle in bed, and damn gorgeous."

"Doesn't sound like the French I grew to know," Remus commented, peering at the women.

Sirius waved a hand at him. "They wear full dress gowns, smoke cigarettes… but mostly, they have _charm. _A sense of manners. They wear you out then they let you sleep in. But they're never sleeping on the job. They'll give you an experience you'll never forget… It's like a dream, and there's no other way of explaining it."

"Because they're gone when you wake up, or because you can't remember if they existed or not?" Remus asked innocently. 

Normally, Peter would have snorted at the comment, but he was too transed by the women. 

"Monsieur Black!" one called friendly. "Vot a pleasing sight vor the eyes you are," she greeted in a thick French accent. 

Sirius smiled, and stepped up to meet his familiar. 

The memory began to slip. Vala glanced around and noticed another memory taking place. She moved so she could watch. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sirius demanded. He had one hand placed on the table and the other open to his friend. 

Cornered to a chair, Remus only stared at him. "I--I um," he stuttered, biting his lip.

James stood behind him, his hands on the chairs back, his eyes fixated on Remus. 

"All the lies, Remus, don't you trust us?" Sirius asked. 

Remus glanced up at James, then back to Sirius, and finally to his hands. "I… I didn't know how'd you take it," he admitted. "Who wants a werewolf as a friend?" he asked, looking up.

Vala stepped closer. 

Sirius sighed, and moved back. He rested against the table. 

"You're my first real friends," Remus said quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands again. "I just didn't want to lose you… And well, I thought if you didn't know then you'd have no reason to-"

__

His own brother disowned him over it, why wouldn't his friends? Vala added silently. 

"We wouldn't have defriended you over something like that," Sirius interrupted politely. 

Remus looked shocked. "You wouldn't? But I thought, I thought since-"

James leaned against the table as well, smiling. "No, it's not like that."

"Look," Sirius began, "You're our friend. It's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of us." A smirk splashed across him.

Vala smiled faintly. _Boys are so simple… _

A grin grew across Remus' face. "Really?" he asked, wanting to hear it again.

"Of course," James assured. 

"Now," Sirius started, standing up. "Let's go find that git Snape and celebrate with a few smile-cracking pranks." 

The memory flickered and was replaced by another one. 

Four teenage boys sat around a room. A black haired one sat on the floor, looking up at a light haired boy. Another black haired boy with tousled hair sat on the other end of the couch, and a fourth, more heavy and meek in appearance sat in a chair. 

"What's it like?" James asked, slightly curious but completely serious.

"Well, it's…" Remus began, shifting forward. He sat on the edge of his seat, his legs spread and his elbows on his lower thighs. He turned his hands over, examining them, weighing them. "It's like keeping a kitten in your bottom drawer." He looked up and around at his friends. 

Sirius tilted his head slightly, a somber expression on his face.

"You can't always handle it alone, but you're still convinced you can… And you're constantly worried someone might find out about it. So you hide it away, but it gets restless and it wants out, but you won't let it. You try to control it, but sometimes it escapes."

Remus avoided Peter's eyes, who leaned back in his chair, and appeared to be uncomfortable with the conversation. 

"It's a horrible experience and it's not something you brag about… I just hope none of you have to go through it."

__

That's Remus, constantly thinking about someone else, Vala noted. 

"I've got an idea! Why don't we-"

"Maybe we should go," a voice said behind her.

__

Now I wonder who that might--"Oh," she said, meeting Grant's eyes. 

"We've seen enough already, let's go."

"Yeah, fine, fine…" She glanced over her shoulder one last time. "I guess I was caught up in old memories of myself. They do look so innocent, I wonder what happened…"

~+~+~+~

It was 11:30. Grant was curled up on the couch; Fae sat against the sofa, staring quietly into the fire. She'd wondered faintly if she should stop Vala, but knew she must decide for herself. 

Vala stood on the front porch, her arms crossed, a piece of chalk in one hand, and the potion weighing down her right pocket. She thought about what she'd seen. The image of Remus shielding his face from the werewolf flashed before her. 

__

"-I didn't know how'd you take it-Who wants a werewolf as a friend?" 

And she was having second thoughts. 

__

"-It's like keeping a kitten in your bottom drawer-"

"-It's a horrible experience-I just hope none of you have to go through it-"

"-Not to anyone, but certainly not to you-"

She was having _a lot_ of second thoughts. 

She lifted the potion from her pocket. 

"Spirits from the deep, who never sleep, be kind to me… Spirits from the grave, without a soul to save, be kind to me…"* _This is stupid, _she thought, dropping the bottle back into her pocket, and tossing the chalk unto the lawn. 

"It's a quarter till," Fae pointed out, stepping out unto the porch.

"I'm not doing it," Vala replied, staring forward. 

"Oh?" Fae shut the door gently, and leaned against the wall. She took a cigarette from her inner pocket and continued to light it. "And why not, if I may be so bold."

Vala sighed. "Because I was doing it to get closer to Remus, so I could know and understand him better." She paused for a moment. "Then I realized I didn't know him at all. It wouldn't help him; it'd only upset him. All he does is worry, and this would increase it by ten."

Fae exhaled and nodded. "Yes, the man's seen enough misery in his life, let him go without this one." 

Vala picked up the potion again. She uncorked it. "No use in keeping this then," she said, tilting it sideways.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Fae warned, sucking on her cigarette.

She looked at her curiously, uprighting the bottle. "Why not?"

Fae shrugged. "You never know when something like that might come in handy," she said, staring at the moon.


	18. Breaking the Girl

Breaking the Girl

__

Twisting and turning 

Your feelings are burning

You're breaking the girl

She meant no harm

"Time sure flies by," Grant commented, crossing his arms. He leaned against the short marble wall outside of the hall. A few feet down, Fae sat against it, lighting a cigarette. 

She inhaled. Finally, "Sure does."

"Before we know it Vala will be up to her knees with babies and a sixth one on the way."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Grant looked at her. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, think about it, Grant…" she shifted. "How many siblings does Ares have?"

He thought for a moment. "Just he and Lucius if I'm correct."

"You are. What about Lucius? How many children does he have?"

"It's hard to say… Just the one, I think. Drakea or something… An odd name, that." 

"I believe its Draco," she said slowly. "Do you know how many kids Ares has?"

"Only Saxon as far as I know. I've never heard mention of anyone else; the Malfoys don't usually keep that kind of information to themselves. Maybe they had a daughter or two, you can never be sure. Why?"

"Well," she continued patiently. "The Malfoy men don't have many children."

"Are you saying-"

"All I'm saying is that the Malfoy men might not be well equipped; it'd sure explain a lot. And those women they marry don't help any with their boy scout hips." She sucked on her cigarette for a bit. 

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh' is quite the expression, but now we have a wedding to catch." She flicked her cigarette, and grabbed Grant's hand.

~+~+~+~

"Excuse me, do you know who my partner might be?"

"Weren't you at the Rehearsal Dinner?"

"Ma'am, I was _drunk _at the Rehearsal Dinner."

"_What?"_

Grant sighed. "Do you know my partner or not?"

"No!"

"Then why are you wasting my time, you pug-nosed wench?" he asked mildly, irritation biting the words a bit.

The woman inhaled sharply. "How _dare _you! Where is your respect?"

His eyes flashed; much like a true Irish man's eyes do before he throws nice pitch of sarcasm into the game. "How about I sh-"

"Grant?" Remus interrupted meekly. "May I have a word with you?"

"Yeah sure," Grant muttered, watching the woman huff and storm off. "Bloody wench," he breathed

"Watch who you're talking to, it wouldn't be in your best interest to insult the wrong people."

"Yeah, whatever," he said distractedly, still staring at the woman. 

Remus sighed. "Watch yourself, Grant." 

Grant's eyes followed him as he left, they drifted, and he spotted a beautiful girl.

Casually walking towards her, she failed to notice him. "Evening, gorgeous," he greeted.

Fae's eyes flickered to him, but then back again. "Hi, Grant."

"What are you looking at?"

Slowly, she rose a hand and pointed at a man. "My partner," she replied. 

"Oh?" He turned to look. "He doesn't look so bad. What's up?"

"Wait," she whispered.

The man, spotting Fae again, slicked his hair back and winked. 

"He's so absorbed in himself," she hissed. "And that's only half of it… If only you could hear his thoughts."

Grant stiffened. "What's he thinking about?"

Fae turned away, and patted him on the chest. "You really don't want to know, believe me." She walked away, but Grant continued to narrow his eyes at the man. He didn't know him at all, but he already hated him. 

~+~+~+~

"Vala?"

She swung around, hiding the picture behind her. "Yes?" she asked innocently.

Remus stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "It's nearly time. Are you ready?"

"Oh, I um…" she looked around, then up again. "Yes, I should be out in a minute."

"Good." 

Awkwardly, they glanced around the room. 

Finally, "So how do I look?"

Remus stepped forward. "You look… nice."

They both dropped their gaze, a small smile on their faces.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he added in a whisper. 

"You're quite the gentleman," she replied softly.

They locked eyes, a faint smile apparent on their lips. 

Trying to avoid an awkward silence, "Hurry up then." He turned for the door. 

"I will," she assured, watching him leave. She waited a moment, then she took the picture out from behind her. A young face with innocent eyes looked up at her. With a slight curve to his lips, he waved. She didn't know why she still carried it around. A few months back she'd found it in a small box of pictures, and figuring Remus wouldn't notice, she took it. 

"I'm marrying Saxon, you know," she said. "I just thought you should know."

She sighed, and hid the picture away. _And here I am on my wedding day and more unsure than ever. _

Vala inhaled deeply and reached for the door. _Here goes everything, with all the loss and nothing to gain. _

Grant stood restlessly next to a woman, at least what Vala suspected to be a woman. She was a whopping 6'4" with muscles bulging down her arms, and her blue bride's maid dress stretched uncomfortably across her broad shoulders. In deep green, Grant was the algae of the maid's ocean. She clutched his arm, and marched down the aisle. 

Now that Vala thought of it, she had seen the woman before. If memory served, she was called Caillou. _An odd name, Caillou._ She wondered what it meant, and if it were the woman's real name. 

Saxon would already be at the altar; all she had to do was take Remus' shaking hand. He was a brother, but like all fathers he worried about his little girl. Was the man smart? Careful? Good? So many questions and the fear that enough time would not be provided for answers. 

Remus was a peaceful man who sat quietly unless problems arose. If Saxon proved to live up to his father's image, problems would rise. He could bite his tongue until it bled, but sometimes not even that could hold him back. And where Vala was concerned, he could only bite his tongue so hard. 

The music hinted for them, and slowly, they walked forward. Vala took glimpses from the crowd, and occasionally caught a cheerful face in the sea of somber ones; such as those of Bill Weasley and Geneva Hutchins. She shifted her hand on Remus' arm; it was uncomfortable being under those heavy eyes. She had a reputation to live up to; a reputation of all Malfoy women, one she could not create, but easily break. And broken reputations made broken women, thus making them live shorter lives. The Malfoy women were expected to be passive and silent, taking orders from their husbands and snubbing those below them. She was to kick House Elves and judge wizards by their dress robes. It was a hard life, being married to a Malfoy. 

To the untrained eye, Remus seemed to have let go of Vala, but to those who had examined his steps and his movements, would notice Vala nearly had to pull herself from him. 

Softly, she patted his hand, and leaning towards his ear, she whispered so only he could hear, "I love you." And faintly, she wondered if she could ever say those words again. She thought she heard a sniff, and gracefully, he pulled himself away. A second longer, and he wouldn't have let her go. 

Vala briefly locked eyes with her Maid of Honor, Fae Mortel, then rose her defeated eyes to Saxon Malfoy. _It's a horrible thing,_ she reflected,_ doing what you have to do and not what you want. _

She took Saxon's hand. It was unnecessary to bid farewell to a life of freedom because at age seventeen you're not granted much freedom. Give her a few more years single, and she might have known what she was losing. 

~+~+~+~

The short hours lengthened enormously, and Vala found herself sitting silently at the head table. She'd finished dinner, though she hadn't eaten enough for it to truly be a dinner. 

"We'd like the couple's dance now," a man behind her said. "First the bride and groom, and then the rest of the party--preferably in order. Meaning, the best man and maid of honor next." 

Vala thought she saw Fae cringe to her left. Regardless, she nodded. Again, Saxon took her hand and they rose. _It must be odd, _she thought, _to never see a bride smile. Though, I suspect the Malfoy weddings are all alike. _

She had tried to be happy, but failed greatly. The wedding was better called a funeral. Dark, somber faces stared at her with hollow eyes. Like dead faces in the dark they stared with glassy eyes and sallow skin. 

Saxon took her in his arms and held her possessively. Thoughtlessly, she danced. Dancing had come as a natural to her, but it had no passion anymore. Now it was steps. Just steps. One step following another in a strategic pattern.

Over Saxon's shoulder, she saw Fae take her partner to the floor. Fae didn't seem to enjoy it, but she did well with bearing burdens and didn't seem to hate it either. Vala had met her partner before. Saccade was his name, if she remembered correctly. She'd met him before, if only for a moment, but the impression had left a lasting effect. She didn't like many people, but she hated even fewer, and Saccade had ranked in her top five. 

Unnoticed, the other partners took the floor. In pairs, they all made it; even Saxon and Caillou took up the steps. 

Vala observed as Saccade slowly ran his hands down Fae's back, and rested at the small of her back. Fae's steps seemed stiffer, and Vala thought Saccade would get the message. Apparently not. Slick as a snake, he moved his hands further down, and squeezed ever so slightly. Fae was not impressed. 

Reaching back, she slapped him hard across the cheek and pulled away. Enraged, Grant tore from Caillou, stormed towards the two, and punched Saccade squarely in the jaw. Saccade was knocked unbalanced, but he did not fall. Grant's fist shook. 

"How _dare _you touch her!" he growled.

Saccade felt his jaw, slowly moving it from side to side, and with the smoothness of water, landed his fist against Grant's cheek.

Grant sprung. Before long he was rolling around on the ground with Saccade. Sometimes Saccade had the advantage of top, but Grant, being in several bar fights, was the more experienced fighter. 

Grant was a dirty fighter too, and once he was on top, he grabbed Saccade's shoulders and jerked him forward and back, banging the man's head several times against the marble floor. 

When blood began to trickle across the floor, a woman screamed, and a man lifted Grant from Saccade's limp body. He'd had a concussion. The nameless wizard conjured a stretcher and took Saccade from the hall. Grant breathed deeply. 

Fae stared at him. 

Turning to her, "I'm sor-" but before he could finish, Fae grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him into a feverish kiss. 

~+~+~+~

"I worry about her," Grant whispered. 

"Yes, I know."

Fae and Grant watched Vala's empty dance and weightless stares. A short while ago, they retreated to a far table. Grant needed to be far away from the crowds, and frankly, the crowds needed to be far away from Grant. 

"But she'll be alright," Fae said confidently. "She's strong."

"She's broken," he breathed. 

"Yes, but in time even a broken clock can tick again."

"Not on its own," he pointed out.

"Hmm… Perhaps it was a bad analogy. How about this one--Even a sick sparrow can sing again?"

"I like that one more."

"I thought you might."

They sat in silence. At length, "Fae?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, you know."

"Yes, I know."


	19. The Stranger

The Stranger

__

Well we all have a face  
That we hide away forever  
And we take them out and  
Show ourselves  
When everyone has gone  
Some are satin some are steel  
Some are silk and some are leather  
They're the faces of the stranger  
  
But we love to try them on  
Well we all fall in love  
But we disregard the danger  
Though we share so many secrets  
There are some we never tell  
Why were you so surprised  
That you never saw the stranger

Silently, the man sat in his cell. He sat and he thought. He thought of strategies and unanswered questions. Sometimes he thought of the sun or flying, but for the most part, he thought of rats. Not just rats, but a specific rat. And by the sound of it, he wasn't alone.

Sometimes he woke in the night. He heard things. The mutters and cries, which generally went unheard, were listened to. 

Thin, jagged lines, which grew shorter with time, suggested a time keeping process. He'd only been there a year and a half, but a year and half might as well be forever in Azkaban. He sighed, and his general stance suggested boredom. 

His first few months in Azkaban had been hard. The constant presence of Dementors outside his door weighing on him at first. But time had worn on, and he grew stronger. He was still very weak, but he was stronger. Eventually, he relearned to change into a dog. It was a small comfort in a cell alone, but a comfort all the same. Canines have milder emotions. He was less sensed and more comfortable as a dog. 

Well, time wore on and the hundred jagged lines turned to thousands. Time keeping had turned into a type of a hobby where all other hopes had failed him. He marked the days and thought of past friends and present enemies. Twelve years had turned into forever. 

But then he heard footsteps. 

"Good morning, Minister," Sirius greeted hoarsely; he wasn't used to talking anymore. He had been _Junior _Minister when Black had entered the jail. 

Sirius had no idea whether it was morning or night. Though he kept a steady time keeping process, he could never keep exact hours. However, Cornelius Fudge was the type of man to inspect a jail early in the morning. With luck, he would be through and out before all the occupants had awoken. 

"Good morning," he said steadily, trying not to eye Sirius. Twelve years had certainly not weighed on him as he had suspected. 

Sirius glanced down. "Is that the Daily Prophet?"

Cornelius stared at it. Finally, "…Yes."

"Are you finished with it? I do miss the crossword," he said, a hint of boredom ringing through his voice. Twelve years in a cell, keeping track of time, and pondering over rats did that to you. 

He stared at the paper some more, then handed it over. "Actually, I am."

"Good day to you, Minister," he said pleasantly, sinking back into his cell with the newspaper. 

Thoughts of the sun, and flying, and drinks at The Three Broomsticks struck him. Relics of the past had a way of reminding you of better times. The moment was shortened as a Dementor seemed to sniff the air. 

Sirius sighed. On the front page was a family of nine. He scanned the picture, taking in the details. The father was balding, the son wore a Head Boy badge, another kept a rat on his shoulder… A scruffy looking rat, which was missing a toe on its front foot… A rat that looked vaguely familiar. Sirius looked closer.

"I don't believe it," he breathed. 

~+~+~+~

One summer night Sirius sat in his cell, patiently waiting for his dinner. It was never late; Dementors were good at that. They were most unpleasant creatures, but for lack of anything else to say, they were reliable. 

They drew near, feeding off his emotions. Like one may shutter at the flickering of a beetle's wings, he shivered. There were some feelings even twelve years of Azkaban couldn't destroy. 

He switched to a dog. On time or not, he was about to make them unreliable. He knew they couldn't feel him as well, and so he slipped through the bars. He was thin, and made the escape easily. Apart from the Dementors, Azkaban was never well protected; it didn't have to be. There was no hope in Azkaban. When most of its occupants were stark mad and it was only a matter of time before the rest were it didn't need protection. Nobody could escape from Azkaban.

And nobody had… until that day.

~+~+~+~

"Mama?"

"Yes, dear?" 

Time weighed on the woman. She must have married young because she was in her late twenties, and she cradled a child, let two chase each other, a third color, and fourth stand in front of her. That was five children, and possibly a sixth on the way. 

"I want a pony!"

"Well, you can have a pony when you get older."

"I want a pony now!" the girl demanded, stomping her foot.

The woman chuckled a bit and pulled the girl into a motherly hug. "We'll talk about it," she eased, kissing her forehead.

Vala observed the family; it was odd to see a woman near her age have so many children. She couldn't have children. She and Saxon had complications in that department. As Fae had said before, Saxon suffered from a well-known disease called "Short Man's Complex" and Vala herself had the hips of a boy scout. And somehow that suited her just fine. It was wrong to raise children into a loveless family. That's how you got poor souls like Grant with secrets and demons to hide. No, she was perfectly fine without children. 

She sipped her tea and cringed.

"If you don't like it, then don't drink it," Fae said evenly, reading over a copy of the Daily Prophet. 

Vala lowered her cup.

"Well would you look at that," Fae muttered.

"What?" Vala inquired, sloshing the tea around and attempting to finish it in one last gulp. 

"Our Sirius Black seems to have escaped from Azkaban," she said casually, dropping the paper on the table for Vala to see.

She almost sprayed her tea across the table. Painfully, she swallowed. Holding a hand to her mouth, she gasped, _"What?"_

"Amazingly nobody saw anything, not that Dementors _can _see anything, but you get my meaning… They can _sense_ things." She plucked up the paper. "Quite a shock to the Ministry, and all of the Wizarding World I'm sure. It's never been done before--a successful escape, I mean."

"Well, I should suspect so!" Vala exclaimed. "Most men go crazy within a few _weeks_!"

"I daresay it doesn't take quite that long," she replied crisply. "Charming picture they've got here, though I must admit I've seen better. Why… You can't even recognize the poor chap."

Vala stared at the paper, her hands fidgeting with her robes. Fae tried not to frown. Maybe Grant had been right. Twelve years is a long time, but if Sirius could break from his prison then perhaps Vala could too. 

"Well, it's getting late," she folded up the paper and grabbed her cloak, "We better be off." She started for the door.

Vala hurried after her. She stopped Fae in the street. "How can you take this so casually?" she asked in disbelief.

"Me? Why wouldn't I?"

"He's, I mean, he's--Oh come on, Fae, he's Sirius Black!"

"So? _I_ didn't sleep with him," she said, gesturing to herself. 

"_What?_" she gasped. "Do you honestly think I, that I--Oh, Fae, _honestly!"_

Fae stared at her oddly. Then she shrugged and continued to walk away, fixing her cloak in the process.

"Wait!" Vala half-called, striding alongside her. "You don't think that I--that I sleep in other beds, do you? I mean, do I give off that impression?" She still tugged at and wrung the midsection of her robes.

Fae shook her head. "No, not at all." She stopped. "Look, don't take it so personally. It was only an assumption."

"But why would you think that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just thought Sirius was different."

Vala fell silent. At length, "He was different…" she began distantly, then snapping back, "But what did I know? I was sixteen."

Fae shifted the collar of her cloak. "Yes, but now you're twenty-eight. Twelve years can really change a person. You're different now, smarter, more understanding."

Somberly, Vala shook her head. "No, twelve years have passed and I'm just as clueless as I was. I'm lonely, childless, and I'm married to a man who only gets colder with age. Some things never change."

Words failing her, Fae remained silent. 

"But what's the use?" she asked, walking away, her hands finally falling to her sides. She threw up a hand lazily, only reaching her waist, then dropping down again. "I forgot how to fight a long time ago. It's just as well."

They walked on in silence, each carrying a personal debate. 

"Fae, I was wondering…" she began slowly. 

"Yes?"

"How are things with you and Grant?"

Fae smiled slightly. "Well, as always."

"When will the wedding be, then?" she asked, trying to keep a casual tone.

Fae didn't say anything for awhile. Then, "There won't be one."

"But I thought you-"

"Oh, I have no doubt that there will be one eventually. I've seen it. However, Grant has some inner demons he needs to deal with… And I'm willing to wait for him."

"You know," Vala began with a smirk, "I never would have suspected this at school."

"Who would've? Grant knew, but I didn't. He was always more sure about his emotions… Amazing, really."

"Can't you see those type of things?" Vala asked curiously. 

Fae shook her head, a thoughtful expression on. "No, the mind works in most unusual ways. I never looked into Grant's mind if I could avoid it. And though I did see us together I never though much of it. After all, we were friends… Why wouldn't he be in my visions?"

"So when did you know?"

A rich smile crossed her lips. "I didn't know until I kissed him, and if you remember when that was…"

The smile infected Vala. "Who could forget? Possibly the most affectionate situation at my wedding." She paused thoughtfully then finished, "Though the honeymoon definitely held more amusing ones… But you know, if I could relive any of them it'd definitely be when Grant bashed in Saccade's head." 

"That makes two of us," Fae agreed. 

Again, they walked quietly, each remembering the night from their perspective. 

"Would you like to come with me tomorrow and see Remus off?" Vala asked, seemingly at random. 

"Where's he going?" Fae asked curiously.

"Hogwarts."

"Oh?"

"Yes… He's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Really now."

"Mm-Hm, would you like to come?"

"Yeah sure, I'll be there."

~+~+~+~

"Where have you been? It's damn near six, and you're yet to be fitted for your dress!"

"I was fitted last week… It'll only take me a minute to change," Vala muttered, hurrying past Saxon. 

Saxon glared after her then directed his gaze to Fae. "What are you staring at?" he snapped. 

Fae frowned. She walked past Saxon, and followed Vala in a slowed pace. She needed time to think. Saxon had once been bearable, but with age came anger and possessiveness. He'd learned to control his wife like one would control the radio. Turn the knob left and it silences, turn it right and it screams. 

Saxon favored his left. Sometimes late at night he preferred his right. And as a husband he had the right. At least, in this family he did. 

Remus didn't know, of course. To think Vala had gotten mixed up in that mess? It'd break his heart. Eventually, he'd get over the heartbreak, but then the real hysterics would begin. And at that point, not even Vala would be able to control him. 

Fae sighed. Vala was so _strong,_ if only she knew it. She rapped her knuckles on the door. "Vala?"

"Come on in, Fae!"

"Actually," she poked her head in, "I was just--here, let me help you with that." She entered the room, unthinkingly leaving the door open. With skilled hands, she laced up the back of Vala's dress and sleeves. The dress tried desperately to flatter her small chest, but succeed little. It cut open on her upper back, and the sleeves tied on either side at the shoulders, connecting to a stiff choker. The sleeves gloved her hands in a pointed angle, linking around her middle fingers. Tightly, the dress wrapped itself around her, only releasing at the ankles for her to walk. 

"What were you saying?" Vala asked.

"Oh, I was just leaving. Will you be alright on your own?"

"Of course I will," she replied, looking herself over in the mirror. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, with all that has happened today I thought you might be a bit off balance. You know, with Sirius escaping and…" she closed her mouth, how could she put it? "With everything else that's been going on," she tried. 

__

Just say it, it makes it more real, Vala sighed. "It's alright, Fae," she said, turning. "I don't want children. It's better this way."

"I know, but…"

"Yes, I know," Vala said, sweeping towards the bed and taking a seat. "It's my third and we really had a hope for this one."

Fae sat down next to her.

"Saxon wants a son so bad, but I'm so weak I can't even give him that."

"Oh, Vala you're not weak," she soothed, resting a hand on her shoulder. "This type of thing happens all the time." 

"Does it, Fae? Does it really?" Vala asked hollowly. Unexpectedly, she rounded on her. "_Three miscarriages? _Is that common?" 

"Vala-"

"No really, is it? One I can understand, two even, but _three?_" she continued. She stood up and walked to the window. Looking out, "Go away, I'd like to be alone."

"Vala…" Fae half-pleaded, half-reasoned. 

"Go. Away," she commanded icily. 

Fae sighed, standing up. "If you need me you know where to reach me." 

Vala stood unmoving, staring unblinkingly at the landscape. 

Quietly, Fae left her alone.

__

Why me? she asked herself listlessly. _What did I ever do?_ Her eyes dropped to her belly, she rubbed a hand across it. _Three wishes, three strikes, three cards… Three's not so lucky; three's your last chance, and if you don't succeed you lose. _


	20. Someone Keeps Moving My Chair

Someone Keeps Moving My Chair

__

"It's the ugliness men, Mr. Horrible

We're just trying to bug you

We thought our dreadfulness

Might be a thing to annoy you with."

But Mr. Horrible says, "I don't mind,

The thing that bothers me is

Someone keeps moving my chair."

"Would you mind if we balance

This glass of milk

Where your visiting friend

Accidentally was killed?"

The night was dark, yet it was still lit by the moon. Two prisoners enjoyed their freedom while a third sulked in a dress. Though both had black hair only one was concealed by the night. 

At the sound of dropping luggage, Sirius tucked himself back into an alley. He couldn't get caught at this point in the game. Almost reluctantly, he crawled forward, curious to see the commotion. Twelve years couldn't steal that memory from him. Time couldn't wear on that face, that figure, that hair. Some things never changed. 

In a dog-like manner, he smiled, and in a most human-like gesture, he leaned against a trashcan. The crash made him run for cover, and a lit wand only caught the tip of him. 

His first day of freedom and who could blame him for being jumpy? At least he'd seen his godson. Dementors were after him, every Wizard and Muggle was on the look out for him, but somehow seeing his godson made it all disappear. Somehow it made everything else seem unimportant.

~+~+~+~

"Well, Mr. Lupin, here we are," Fae announced, opening her car door. She sniffed the air. 

"Sort of takes you back, doesn't it?" Remus asked quietly, stepping from the car.

"Now I wouldn't go that far. Give me a pack of cigarettes and a corner to hide behind--then I'll be back to my youth." 

"I thought you gave up smoking?" Vala asked testily.

"Ah, I did," she sighed. "Take me back to the good old days when I could smoke a pack a day and not give a flying rat's a-"

Vala elbowed her. "There's children around, Fae, watch your language." She turned to help Remus with his suitcase. 

Fae glimpsed about. "Nothing they haven't heard at home, I'm sure," she muttered.

"-don't be such a child--there's no shame in me helping you," Vala scolded, taking the suitcase from Remus. "Hurry now, we've only got time to get you on and say goodbye," she lectured. "Nine and three-quarters, is it?"

"I should think so," Fae replied, subconsciously padding her pockets for a cigarette. "Time hasn't _quite_ touched Hogwarts." 

"You can go first," she said to Fae. "I'll take Remus through."

Fae glanced over her shoulder. "Take your time," she said, observing the crowd. She only waited a minute, then hurried through the barrier. She was relieved, to say the least. Vala was skittish and scared, but around Remus she was different. She spoke freely, and sometimes even sarcastically, but no matter what a translucent smile never left her lips. Maybe perhaps because she had more to prove. 

Remus began to walk forward, but Vala tugged on his arm. "Remus? May I have a word with you?"

His brows drew together. Slowly, "Sure, Vala…"

"In Slytherin there's a boy. His name's Draco Malfoy--he's Saxon's cousin. It's best if you don't get mixed up with his sort. He's a cruel, pointy nosed ferret, and his father will do anything to get you out of a job."

"I know of the Malfoys, Vala… They were in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Believe me, I know." 

She held up a finger. "I'm not quite finished. Remember, Draco's a Seeker for the Slytherin team--meaning he's not fond of Gryffindor and or Harry." 

"How do you know all this?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Because if you're willing to listen you pick up on things. But now it's your turn, so listen up. I want you to keep an eye on Harry. From what Draco's told me, the boy has a tendency of getting into trouble. Though, try not to worry too much--Harry's closest friends are the youngest Weasley boy, and we both know that's an old, respectable Wizarding family, and a young Muggle-born girl. Watch them, Remus, I'm counting on you." Twelve years or not, she was still concerned about the welfare of her little brother, even if he wasn't a brother at all. _It's funny, _she reflected, _I used to hate him after Lily and James' death. After all, he only misses the **thought **of his parents, I miss the people. _

"That's a lot to live up to," he commented. "Keeping a Potter in line when they're natural rule-breakers."

"Yes," she smiled, "But who better to place to trust?" She checked her watch. "It's about time… Are you ready?" 

He smiled weakly and nodded.

"Then let's go," she chirped, leading forward. 

On the other side Fae stood watching the train. Her eyes trailed the cheerful children with a look of interest. She moved her lips in silence, listening to thoughts or perhaps only yearning for a cigarette; it'd been months, but the cravings were still strong for her. In a sense it was ironic. She could tap into other's minds and command their thoughts, but she could never control her own. 

"Take care of yourself," Vala reminded, a simple phrase that compacted everything from 'be careful' to 'I love you.' 

"And don't forget to send us the Quidditch schedule and stats," Fae advised, turning on her heel to glance at him, the broken end of a quill pressed between her lips. "Grant's a fan and he likes to keep up with the old teams."

Vala calculated in her head, though she subconsciously already knew the date. "We graduated from Hogwarts twelve years ago."

"He's friendly with a few of the older Weasley boys, and I think he likes to rub Slytherin's winnings in their faces."

"I knew Bill…" she trailed thoughtfully. Snapping back, "But wasn't his younger brother--Charlie, was it?--Good at Quidditch?" 

"He was brilliant," Fae answered, her eyes drifting over the students again. "But he graduated a few years back, and now only the four younger boys attend it. We still see Bill around, at Gringotts and such, but it's not a rare occasion when Grant invited him down to The Clover for a drink or two."

Vala and Remus exchanged glanced; Fae had never expressed any interest in society before and suddenly she seemed to burst with it. 

She carried on, "The twins are Beaters for Gryffindor, and quite good at it, and the Potter kid's a pretty good Seeker, but Grant's feeling confident about Slytherin's fairly new brooms and Seeker." Finally, she directed her gaze back to Vala. "Isn't their Seeker Saxon's cousin?"

"Yes, it's Draco… But how do you know so much?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Grant's a big Quidditch fan, he likes to keep up with those kind of things." Naturally, that meant Fae knew more than she wanted to about Quidditch and all the House players. 

Remus patted Fae's back sympathetically. "I guess I'll be off then."

Vala kissed his cheek in a hurry and shuffled him to the train. It wasn't quite time for them to leave, but she thought it better for him to get a seat before all the students were settled. 

"How can a man age so quickly?" Fae mumbled to herself. She picked out details from his posture and profile. Small creases in his forehead suggested long hours of concentration and thought. The grey hairs hinted at endless exhaustion. Over the years, he lost his grace and balance. He was still sleek, and even quick, but looked as if he hadn't eaten a proper meal in months. Pushed too hard, and he looked as if he would fall. 

Fae had never known him very well, but she could suspect that he'd only gotten worse. She'd seen the pictures. He was a quiet and amused boy who grew into a reserved and interested man. He was handsome, intelligent, and independent… He had it all. Then his life changed, and he was still struggling to adjust. 

He could never adjust. Fae knew it. Fae feared it. From this stage he could only grow older. More silent and more tired. And thus was the fate of a young man. Fae sighed. 

She perked; Vala had returned. "Ready?"

"Yeah…" she glimpsed longingly over her shoulder. "I hope he'll be okay."

"I'm sure he will." 

They strolled alongside each other. The end of a quill stuck like a blade of grass from Fae's lips. She chewed on the end, the feather bouncing in the breeze.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine," she lied. 

~+~+~+~

"You see that?" Grant sprung from his seat, his eyes darting through the darkness. He shot a look at Fae. "It looked like a Grim!"

She sat in an outdoor rocking chair with waterproof padding. Her forearm and head resting on the arm, she watched the flames of a candle flicker. Lazily, she ran her pointer around the rim, occasionally dipping her fingertips into the melted wax. "Sit down, there's no such thing as a Grim."

Reluctantly, he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his seat, slowly sliding back into it. "I just saw a big, black Grim. You know what that means, don't you?" he asked, steadily watching the shadows.

"Yes, come tomorrow morning we'll have overturned trashcans and our trash strategically scattered across our lawn in one, big, deadly omen." She waved a few fingers over the flame.

He pointed a finger accusingly. "Don't you taunt! Next they'll be coming for you!"

"Then let them take me," she said, raising her head a little. 

He waved the finger at her. "Don't you even say that! Mark my words, everything I say is true."

"Oh come off." She redirected her gaze to him. "You don't honestly believe that, do you? If Grims existed they'd be in churchyards. They don't just wander everywhere, you know." She sighed and turned her eyes back to the candle. "You've been spending too much time at that bar of yours. All those silly men and their drinks have been filling your head with stories and lies. You need to get out more. Breath the fresh air, smell the roses." She looked at him. "Try to live a normal life for once."

Grant dropped his gaze. In a whisper, "You can't ask me to change my life like that… I can't just wake up one morning and decide to be another person. It doesn't work like that." He looked up. 

She sighed. Living with Grant was difficult. No matter what perspective you took on it they were two entirely different people. Grant loved crowds, and being with people in general. He liked to talk and meet new people. Grant was, in short, a people person. Fae was not. She hated crowds, she hated making new acquaintances, and she hated talking to people. 

Explanations and theories fell short when it came to Fae and Grant. They loved each other, and there wasn't much more you could say about them. 

"Can't you? I've dropped my smoking and yet you continue your drinking? Such battles are often fought and rarely won," she breathed against the flame. "Come, let us be each others good and bad examples." She licked her fingers and smothered the flame. 

~+~+~+~

An inner voice from somewhere deep within commanded a less than human mind. Stealthily, a black shadow crept across Hogsmeade. Tangled and matted fur hung loosely on a frail frame. 

"Look mommy! A puppy dog!"

Sirius looked up hopefully, a consistent hunger ringing in his stomach. 

"Don't feed the stray, honey, it may have rabies," the mother warned, pulling her daughter away.

His shoulders sagged, but he continued on in a lazy, haphazardly walk. Though he the grass only grew greener and the sun brighter, he was starving. 

Sirius Black was on the loose, but the world continued to spin. Hogsmeade was packed as usual, and Gringotts was busier than ever. People carried on with their lives, unaware that a dangerous convict was in their presence. Even the realization of their supposed danger wouldn't keep them from their business. 

The world was funny like that. It feared and it cried, but nothing could scare it from its work. Jobs had to be done, and at their neglection were the real fears formed. 

Sirius trotted past a house and a yard of playing children, his real target was only a few yards away. Sitting back on his haunches, and lifting his paws comically, he begged. 

"Now there's a good dog," the old man complimented. "Would that be a good girl or boy?"

With a puzzling expression, he tilted his head to one side.

The man bent to have a closer look. "My eyes aren't as good as they used to be… Let's see here. Ah, a boy! And what a boy!"

In the depths of his mind, Sirius felt extreme embarrassment and violation. He whined.

The man leaned against his cane. "Hungry, boy?"

He wagged his tailed heartily, his tongue bouncing from his mouth. 

He chuckled and tossed the dog a scrap of bread. 

Sirius ate it whole, and begged for more.

"Careful, boy." The man ran a hand across his stomach. "Hmm… I can see you need this more than me. Well, be a good boy and stay out of my trash," he said, tossing the rest of the sandwich to Sirius and strolling off. 

The dog nodded once and gobbled down the sandwich. 

Things were beginning to look up for him, and five minutes later he was on his way again. 

__

(A/N: I was at a bit of a loss as to what I should call this chapter, so… you can't go wrong with the 'Giants'!)


	21. Welcome to Paradise

Welcome to Paradise

__

Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken homes   
Some call it slums and some call it nice   
I want to take you through the waste land   
That I like to call my home   
Welcome to paradise

"Did he just up and ask you?"

Remus sipped his tea. He tried to act casual, but the request had thrown him off guard. His eyebrows rose. "Yes, he stayed behind after my lesson and asked if I could help him."

"What do you plan to do?" Vala asked, delicately holding a cup of tea. 

"Help him," he stated quite obviously. 

She pretended to sip the tea. Every so often she would spill some, accidentally of course. "How do you plan to come around that?"

"I'm not sure…" he trailed uncertainly, staring off in space.

She set the cup down gingerly. "Why not the Patronus Charm?"

His eyes flickered to her. "That's highly advanced magic, Vala--well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level."

She picked up her glass again. Looking at him over the rim just before she acted out a sip, "So?" After the staged drink, "Harry's a very bright boy. Why shouldn't he be able to handle it?"

"Did you ever hear what happened on the Express?"

She stared at him oddly, curious of the seemingly change of topic. After a short lapse of time, "No, I don't believe you ever mentioned it."

"A Dementor came aboard."

"A Dementor? The students must have been terrified."

"I assume they were… I was a little shaken up myself."

"I'm sure you were," she replied. "But so?"

"Harry fell unconscious. He began to tremble and cry… One can only imagine what he might have seen," he answered distantly. 

Vala shifted. Her mind flickered between two memories, that of Fae and Remus' crystal ball, and the night the Potters died.

"He's affected worse than others, and he's embarrassed by it. I want to help him, but I don't know how much he can take." 

Vala rest a hand on his. "Is this the same boy who battled against the Dark Lord in his first year and a Basilisk in his second?"

Remus nodded solemnly. 

"Then what's a Patronus Charm?" she asked rhetorically. She leaned back again. "He can handle a little challenge." 

"Maybe so, but what should I do about the Dementor?"

"What about it?"

"I can't bring one into the school. Dumbledore'd have a fit." 

She traced the rim of her cup. " Why not find something that looks like a Dementor?"

He shook his head. "I'd might as well dress up in a black cloak. It has to have the _feel _of one." 

"Hmm…" her eyebrows knit together. "I know! Why not a Boggart? Didn't you mention using one in a previous lesson?"

To her surprise, he frowned. 

"What? Why wouldn't that work?"

He looked up. "Oh, it's not that it wouldn't work. It's a terrific idea. It's just…"

"Yes?" she asked steadily, leaning in.

"Well, I've no idea where to find one."

She slapped his arm. "Oh Remus, you're getting naïve in your old age. Come now, did you honestly believe there'd only be one? This is Hogwarts; it's probably got _hundreds _of Boggarts! What day is it?"

He stared at her. "Monday."

"And you scheduled him on Thursdays?"

He nodded slowly. 

"Perfect. Start looking for a Boggart tomorrow, and have it by Thursday night. I guarantee you'll find one. And if all else fails contact me and we'll search that flat of yours. It must be a Boggart Cabaret by now." 

They shared identically soft smiles. "You're probably right… What time is it?"

"Nearly five."

He began to stand up. "Then I better be on my way."

"Yes," she agreed, gathering her cloak. "We're hosting another dinner, and I assume you have classes to organize?"

"More or less."

Remus tightened his cloak; Vala let hers open. The air was chilling, but she'd always been partial to Winter. It was a sign of serenity. Summer was unbearably hot, Fall killed everything, and Spring was overrated. Winter was different. The air was dry and crisp. Animals were just as well extinct. The snow drifted from the sky and everything whitened. It was simple. Not a lot of things happened in Winter. 

Colds were never a threat. Kissing Saxon's iced lips were a threat. But that didn't matter right now. Right now she was in good company, and right now she was free.

She glimpsed at Remus, a broad smile creeping across her face. It quickly faded away. Remus looked paler than usual. She sobered in observation. 

He sensed her change of mood. Remus was like that, sensing the slightest twitch, the slightest change. "Yes, I'm afraid it's nearly that time of month." 

A smile flit across her lips.

"What?" he asked, trying to hold back a grin.

"Nothing… Just… um," she bit her lip, "Don't use that phrase again. It sounds wrong."

The shield broke, and he fell into a round of hearty laughs. 

She dropped into a bright and broad smile. Seeing him happy was enough for her. A little laughter; that's all she really needed in her life. 

It was a long road they walked, laughing and joking. At the end of it he wished her goodnight and she kissed his cheek. It had been, all in all, a great evening.

~+~+~+~

"Sir, he's arrived."

Ares swiveled in his chair, his fingertips pressed together, and peered at the servant over his steepled fingers. He drummed his fingers together. He let time lengthen, and watched the servant squirm. A smile twitched at his crooked lips. Finally, "Show him in." 

Gratefully, the servant exited. Soon Ares was accompanied by a new visitor. A younger visitor. A visitor with light brown hair, flickered with a small amount of silver strands. 

The visitor let an eyebrow raise. "You called?"

~+~+~+~

Vala stared emptily at her hands. When avoiding all eye contact, it was best to stare at your hands. Some resorted to wineglasses and others to napkins, but they were amateurs. While staring at an empty bottle, you have the threat of letting your eyes drift and catching that of another's. Another who's waiting for you to do just that. 

"I hear the Ministry hasn't got any leads on Black yet," a young witch brought up. 

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Saxon shift and stare curiously at the witch.

"I suspect he's using black magic," she continued knowingly, persuading others to join in. 

"Imagine that," Saxon drawled, "Black using black magic."

Light laughter waved over the dinner party, a shrill burst of enjoyment from the young witch in particular. Saxon curled his lip in satisfaction. Laughter is no achievement, Vala noted, when they're only afraid of you lashing out and disposing of them without leaving a trace. 

"But seriously," Saxon began, "It takes no great wizard to escape the Ministry. Why, look at my abundance of guests! We've got everyone from the Crabbes to the Zabinis. All we're missing is my dear father, Ares." 

Vala looked up, risking the threat of catching wandering eyes. And she did, that of Saccades, but his were easily redirected. She rested her gaze on an older wizard. The wizard held an old, rickety staff his nose, his fingers curled over it. He looked to be a sturdy, strong man in his youth, but time weathered on him and now he was only a shell of his former self. The man grunted. Vala assumed he was German. An image flit across her mind, that of an elderly man reclined in a beaten chair, who grunts his hello's, his good-bye's, and his how are you's. She bet he was a grandfather. 

"What was that, Mr. Danner?" Saxon called in his mirth. 

The old man glared up, a toothpick pressed between his lips, twitching with the picking of his teeth. 

A wizard, four years Vala's senior, leaned towards her and whispered, "That's Old Phil Danner, a crazy sod if I ever did see one." 

She stared at the wizard. He seemed sociable. An odd find at a Malfoy dinner party. 

The man grunted again, and looked away. He'd lived several years, and he'd seen more arrogant men than that of Saxon Malfoy. He wasn't about to waste his time on another. 

Saxon frowned. This was his dinner party, and he wasn't about to be snubbed by an old man. He rose, or began to at least. Vala touched his arm, a silent request for him to take his seat. Saxon glared at the elderly wizard, but did as Vala asked. 

Everyone is here, she thought, even those Saxon hates… what is the occasion? And vaguely she wondered by Ares had not come. 

~+~+~+~

"Black's like a canary… He brings song to the coal miners, and brightens their day. Some think he's mad, to sing like that in a dark hole, but he doesn't care… and he continues to sing until there's a leak of gas, and he's choked. This death can go unnoticed, and several can follow it, or it can meet realization." Ares weighed the other wizard, and continued, "Black holds the truth. But the truth is in our favour. Black is held as a madman, and has few, if any allies. Now I understand you have a connection to Black…"

The wizard stared through judging eyes, and nodded. 

Ares smiled. Well, he didn't so much as smile as curve his lips in a sadistic, icy smirk. You had to give him credit, he smiled as much as a Malfoy could.

"Find our friend, convince him of your loyalty, and slay him…" He threw a bag of gold at the wizard's feet. "And see to it that he never finds those allies."

__

(A/N: Sorry, dah-lings! This chapter fell right into my last week of school. Exams end the 28th, so I should be getting back on track.)


	22. Satellite

Satellite

__

Satellite strung from the moon  
And the world your balloon  
Peeping tom for the mother station  
Winter's cold spring erases  
And the calm away by the storm is chasen  
Everything good needs replacing  
Look up, look down all around, hey satellite  
Satellite headlines read  
Someone's secrets you've seen  
Eyes and ears have been  
Satellite dish in my yard  
Tell me more, tell me more  
Who's the king of your satellite castle?  


"I remember hearing of that," Vala said wistfully, "I overheard it from Saccade, who heard it from Saxon, who in turn heard it from Draco. They all had a good laugh over it."

"Good to know somebody did. I didn't find it the least amusing," Remus said sternly. 

"Grant was impressed," Fae offered. 

"And at least Harry did the charm right," Vala added optimistically.

"Not right," Remus corrected gently. "It had the general texture, but the shape was a bit off."

"What was it?" Fae asked curiously.

"Oh… I'm not entirely sure."

Vala prodded him. "You're lying."

He shifted. "I'm not. I have an idea, but I'm still not sure," he saved.

"Then tell us your idea," Vala pressed.

"I think it may have been a stag, but I could be wrong."

Vala and Fae exchanged confused expressions. "And what's the significance of that?"

The tinkling of glass breaking interrupted them.

"Grant!" Fae called. "Get out of there!"

Remus swung his head in the direction of his office. Grant exited, his lips twitching from a smile to a grin, his hands shaking. "I'm just so excited," he grinned. "The Quidditch Final's finally here, and between the two most competitive houses!"

"Yeah," Fae rolled her eyes. "I can hardly contain myself."

"Who do you think'll win?" he asked anxiously. 

"I could care less," Fae put in, not unkindly just uninterestedly. 

"I suppose it's really a win-win situation for me," Vala mentioned. "It's either Saxon's cousin or Harry."

All eyes focused on Remus; it took him a moment to realize. "What?"

"Who do you think will win?" Grant pressed.

He glanced around. "Oh, I don't know." Which was followed by a chorus of impatient sighs, to which he replied, "Gryffindor, I suppose."

"I always knew you were a Gryffy fan," Grant smirked.

"What do you expect? I _was_ a Gryffindor."

"And Harry's on the team," Vala added knowingly. 

"Yes, I suppose that adds," Remus admitted. 

~+~+~+~

"I'll be happy when all this is over," Remus confided in Vala as they left his classroom. Grant and Fae, as usual, were striding ahead, engaging in conversation. Perhaps that's too generous. Grant rambled and rattled on about Quidditch, while Fae listened half-politely, occasionally offering her opinion. 

Vala glanced at him curiously. "Why's that?"

"You wouldn't imagine the tension. I'm just waiting for Gryffindor to win this bloody thing, so it's over."

Vala let what he said sink in for a moment, then she smirked, "So you really _are_ a Gryffy fan." 

"Of course I am," Remus admitted without shame, "I _am _a Gryffindor!"

~+~+~+~

"Harry may be a grade A Seeker, but if he catches that Snitch before they're fifty points up, Slytherin wins the cup!" Grant made sure everyone knew. 

"Sit down, Grant, people are starting to stare," Fae muttered, dragging him down to his seat. They sat somewhere in between the Slytherin and Gryffindor posts, in an attempt to keep Remus and Vala neutral while Grant was stoked out Slytherin. Grant was donned head to foot in green. He even went as far as to slap green handprints across his face. When Gryffindor came out, he distinctly booed, and when Slytherin charged out he shouted in glee. Enthusiastically, he waved a green flag with a glittery serpent high above his head, cheering the Slytherins on. Next to Grant, Vala failed to hear the introductions and the blow of the whistle. 

Remus, while keeping his seat, shifted to get a better view. Gryffindor started in possession, but a large Slytherin quickly intercepted the Quaffle. Grant shook his hips from side to side, but soon groaned in disappointment as one of the Weasley twins smacked a Bludger after him. He dropped the Quaffle, but a girl in scarlet robes caught it. Vala still couldn't hear the commentator. 

And Gryffindor had the first goal. Remus smiled, and Grant booed loudly. Only a second later, while the girl was enjoying her victory, did the head of the Slytherin team smash into her. Fae, who had been calmly holding Grant's hand, shot to her feet. She booed loudly and screamed a few well chosen swear words. 

Remus and Vala exchanged a glance of amusement, but turned back in time to see one of the Weasley twins chuck his Beater's club at the Slytherin's head. His head snapped forward, and his nose smashed into his broom handle. Fae punched the air. "Hell yes, you show that bloody sod!" she screamed delightfully. 

The referee zoomed between them and announced a penalty shot to each team. Grant groaned. 

A silence blanketed the audience as the young Chaser lined up for her penalty shot. Vala found herself holding her breath. Finally, she caught the name of the Chaser--Alicia. 

The commentator's voice ripped through the crowd, "Yes! She's beaten the Keeper! Twenty-Zero to Gryffindor!"

The bleeding Slytherin lined up for his shot, took it, and failed. Fae's voice reached an all high as she screamed and cheered Gryffindor on. 

Vala breathed a sigh of relief; Remus unclenched his fists. Both Fae and Grant stood at the railing, clinging on with one hand and rooting with the other. 

Vala's eyes drifted to Harry, who circled the Pitch. Funny, she thought, he's flown a few feet away from me and he doesn't even recognize me. He's seen Remus all semester, and he doesn't even remember him. He'll never know Lily or James, or Peter… or even Sirius, but I suppose good things come out of everything.

She caught the end of a shout from the commentator, "That was deliberate!" She swung her head to see what happened, but missed it.

Fae was screaming obscenities, Grant stared in silence, but soon broke into the infamous Slytherin 'We've cheated and we're gonna win' attitude. 

She elbowed Remus lightly. "What happened?"

"He grabbed her head!" he gasped. "Swung her about, and she dropped the Quaffle!"

Vala was shocked. She stared at Grant. With his abusive background, it was a wonder he liked Quidditch so much. It must remind him of his family, she supposed.

She didn't bother to watch the penalty shot, she was sure it wouldn't be the last, and turned her eyes to Harry. Maybe it was only her imagination, but Harry seemed to have caught contact with something near one of the Gryffindor goal posts. She squinted; it was hard to tell if anything was there. Harry hesitated, then bolted for the Slytherin posts. Vala grinned, she felt like she could read his mind. Even if he couldn't recognize her, they had a kind of connection. 

The two Beaters from the Slytherin team bolted after him, bouncing Bludgers back and forth. She crunched her teeth. Don't let them catch up, she thought drastically, let him pull up. And he did, and the two Beaters smacked into each other. Vala let a small cheer escape her while Fae let it rip. 

Not too soon after, the Slytherin captain got possession of the Quaffle and scored against the Gryffindor's Keeper. Fae was set back, how had her team let that get past? while Grant cheered something loud. 

The game wore on, and though not many points were made, a lot of penalties were. The Gryffindor team seemed to be getting the worse of it, and the Weasley twins were doing anything they could to protect their team. One of the Slytherin Beater's had gone as far as hitting one of the Chaser's with his Beater's club and had the persistence to insist he thought she was a Bludger. 

The Bell girl scored another penalty, and the Weasley twins swooped around her, waving the clubs around ready for any retaliation from the Slytherins. The Slytherin Beaters took advantage of this and whacked both Beaters at the Gryffindor Keeper. 

Fae's screeching was almost drowned by the booing, "YOU --OODY BA----D, YOU MO----- -UCKING WHO--SON! CHEAT--, CHE--ER! YOU FIL--- CHEAT--- SCUM! ---TARD!"

Vala and Remus both moved forward, Grant and Fae leaned over the railing screaming. 

Fae's fury soon disappeared as Gryffindor scored another point. She threw her hands up in a cheer. 

All four of them, losing interest in the rest of the game, resorted to watching Harry and Draco. Harry pulled up on his broomstick and speeding upward, Draco followed and grabbed hold of Harry's Firebolt. 

Fae watched in horror, her jaw dropped open. Harry glanced back, and when he turned back to the Snitch, it was gone. Malfoy slid back unto his broom, and Fae let go an ear-piercing screech. 

"BASTARD!" she screamed; one of the few whole words Vala managed to hear, "BLO--- GOD FOR---EN SLI-- OF ---IT! DEA--EATERS! THE LOT OF Y--! A LIFE IN AZKA---!" She began fumbling for her wand. Grant stared at her goggle-eyed, and kept her from actually retrieving her wand.

"It's a game!" he shouted. "Let it go!"

She stared at him, realized what she was doing, and blushed. She apologized soundlessly, and turned her eyes back to the game. 

Slytherin scored another goal. Angelina got hold of the Quaffle and made her way to the Slytherin posts. All the Slytherins, even the Keeper, bolted towards her. Vala bit her lip, but just then Harry swooped down and scattered them. She grinned to herself. Angelina made the goal, and Gryffindor was leading by eighty-twenty. 

Fae cheered, but then Grant pointed to the diving Draco. 

"Oh no!" Fae whispered.

All that for nothing, Vala near-sighed, wanting to cover her eyes. She didn't _want_ to see Gryffindor lose. 

Harry shot forward, heading straight for the Snitch. He was level with Draco's heels, then his knees, his shoulders… Harry smacked Draco's hand away and clutched the small, golden ball. 

"YES!" Fae tossed up her arms. "YES!" she screamed. She jumped into Grant's arms. "YES!" she hollered, kissing him. She smacked his shoulder, "YES!" and kissed him again. 

Vala squeezed Remus' leg, and resisted the urge of hugging him to death. "We won," she whispered. 

~+~+~+~

Vala padded Grant's chest. "You two coming along? We're heading down to the Lucky Clover to get a drink or two, and to celebrate."

"Every night at the Clover is a party, but tonight especially." Grant said pleasantly.

"I thought you wanted Slytherin to win," Remus reminded slyly.

"I did," he replied, "But who cares?" He looked down at Fae. "With my love's new interest in Quidditch, who cares?" 

Fae smiled. 

Away from all the hype, Vala finally noticed all the green smudges across Fae's face. She smirked lightly, but declined the offer to join them. "I've got to be getting back. Saxon'll wonder where I've been if Slytherin hasn't won."

"Suit yourself," Fae settled, grabbing hold of Grant's cloaks and directing him to the door. 

It could have been the lightness of the mood, or the dizziness of the game, but Vala would swear years later that she saw Fae slap Grant's butt as they left. 

"I think," said Remus, "That they just had a break through."

Vala turned to Remus, trying to maintain a straight face. She'd been worried about them, but what for? Some people are so different that they're made for each other. Everything would be okay; they could get through everything. 

Her poker face broke, and she laughed. She dropped her wand onto an old piece of parchment, she'd been holding it attentively in case Fae broke into another mad rage against the Slytherins, and they hugged. She clutched onto his robes and cried, "Oh Remus! This is so perfect! I never want to leave!" Realizing what she'd said, she tried to cover it up. "I wish everyone could get together more often."

He shrugged. "I don't see why not. We can always take a break from things."

"Yes," she said, a dewy smile in place. "But," she began, hastily pulling away. She stopped. "Remus?" Her eyes were resting on her wand. "What's that?" 

"It's your-" he began.

Under her wand lay the Marauder's Map, and in green, curly words it proclaimed, "Mr. Prongs would like to suggest that the two of you get a room." 

"Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs, and would like to suggest the inn down on Rue de Maitresses. It's very spacious."

"Mr. Moony would like to apologize for his friends' behavior and bids the couple a lovely evening."

"-Together," the looping known as Mr. Padfoot added. 

And last, but certainly not least, "Mr. Wormtail is unfamiliar with the inn, but bids the couple a swell evening all the same." 

Vala stared at Remus, then back to the parchment. "What is that?"

He picked up the map, and shoved it into a hip pocket. "It's nothing."

"It said your name," she insisted. "Yours and James and Peters and… What was it?"

"Nothing," he repeated stiffly. "Didn't you have to leave?"

She stared at him. What's gotten into him? she wondered. "Okay…" she picked up her wand and dropped it into a pocket. "I guess I'll be going then." 

More confused than ever, she left the castle, but not the grounds. Walking over the tumbling hills, she heard loud rustling and deep sniffles coming from Hagrid's cabin. Glancing around, she stepped towards it, and hesitating at the door, she finally knocked.

After Gryffindor's grand defeat of Slytherin, she expected Hagrid to be drinking. Drinking alone is a mistake, she decided, one gets extremely cheery, but then drops into an all time low. 

The door swung open, "Yes?" he asked through blurry eyes. 

"Hi, Hagrid," Vala started awkwardly. 

He blinked. 

He's probably not used to seeing women my age knocking on his door, she blushed. "You probably don't know…" she looked past him and at the fully-grown Hippogriff lying on his bed, ripping a chicken apart. "Uh…" She directed her gaze upward and into his bloodshot eyes. "Do you mind if I come in?"


	23. Diamonds and Guns

Diamonds and Guns

__

Every last soul must pay the last toll  
In the dice game of life, who gets the last roll?  
Is it the one with the suit? The one with the sack?  
The one who hides behind his fuckin' gun and his badge?  
Negative outlook? Well that's how I'm livin'  
And like he said, it's a wicked world we live in  
It's a wicked world we live in

"Just like that," Vala repeated unbelieving. "What about an appeal?"

"There'll be one, but it doesn' matter," Hagrid replied, his eyes turning to Buckbeak. "Beaky's gentle as a lamb... How could this happen?" The animal looked up, blinked, and resumed its dinner. 

Hagrid was doing better now that Vala had taken his tankard away and made him a cup of tea, but he still seemed to be hallucinating. She stared at the long-taloned, sharp-beaked creature. Gentle as a lamb?

"Woul'nt hurt anyone…"

"Why do you think he attacked Draco?" she asked carefully.

"Not listenin'… There delicate creatures, they are… Insult 'em and they attack."

She nodded knowingly. "And his father took immediate action?"

"Jus' about. Can't blame 'im… Jus' wish it di'nt hafta be this way." He blew his nose into a grand, multi-colored handkerchief with dark smudges and unraveling strings. "There's still an appeal," he said hopefully. 

"Yes," she agreed. "And the executioner is coming as well?"

He nodded, rubbing his nose with the tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

"Hmm…" she frowned. "That doesn't seem quite right... And Lucius Malfoy pressed the charges?"

He nodded again, dabbing his eyes. 

She stared at the beast. It's ugly and I can't understand why a full-grown man would love one, she thought, but in it's own, it's almost beautiful. Almost innocent, really. Curse a dragon for burning down a house and a cat for scratching the furniture… whatever the offense, they're only animals and they're only acting upon their instincts. Why, I've seen men with worse intentions get away with greater crimes. 

"Well then," she stood up, "I wish you the best of luck with the appeal, and I hope to see you again." She stopped at the door, and added as an afterthought, "Who knows, maybe as soon as a few days time." And left. 

The visit had gone unnoticed by all except those who were present, and with the disappearance of Buckbeak, he would swear she was an angel in disguise. 

~+~+~+~

Buckbeak scratched anxiously at the ground. To any average wizard he was just another big, ferocious beast. He wasn't. He was impatient, and he wanted to know why he was tied to the bloody fence post. He dug at a worm with his beak. Why had his master been acting so oddly? He loved the half-giant, but he was growing restless of the constant sniffling and kisses on his forehead. 

"It'll be a'right," the man had said several times. Buckbeak didn't know what that meant, but he did know that everything was far from right. For instance, why was he away from all his friends? Why were they in a pen somewhere while he stayed tied to this fence post? 

He ate the worm and stared at the approaching men. Now what do they want? The atmosphere grew thicker, Hagrid came from his dwelling, and Buckbeak sensed the oncoming tears. If he were any other creature, a human or a dog, he would have sighed at that exact moment, but being nothing more than a Hippogriff, he resorted to smashing a rather large pumpkin. 

~+~+~+~

Vala sipped her wine in a deep gloom. Nothing short of seducing Lucius could save Hagrid's Hippogriff. It was a shame, but why did she care? It wasn't her problem. Besides, she was no temptress. What could she have done? 

Because he's helpless and the Malfoys are getting the best of him, she reminded herself. It happens too often, and it has to be put to an end. 

Saxon was beside him in joy. She could see the glee and malicious in his eyes, even from her position from across the room. 

She stared at Saxon then directed her gaze at the young witch flirtatiously touching his hand and suppressing light giggles. She frowned. Like water in a burning pot, the water as dissolved in a thin mist, but he was still her husband. 

The witch licked the rim of her glass, and stroked Saxon's hand. She leaned in and blew into his ear. Strands of raven hair quivered in her whispers. His lips drew back into a thin smirk.

She set down her glass with a clink of glass on wood and the narrowing of her eyes. She fingered the concealed wand. A Hippogriff would not be the only one to die at the hands of a Malfoy. 

~+~+~+~

The plan was set, and all Sirius had to do was wait. Crookshanks and he had discussed it nights earlier. Discussed is a bit generous. They'd found a way to communicate, but it was more commanding. Sirius told Crookshanks what he wanted and expected it to be followed through. The cat didn't always succeed, but it always returned. 

Crookshanks was a cat, and frankly he could care less about the poor, sodden story of a convict. But Black intrigued him. Black was a human in a dog's body, and though he'd seen similar things before, Black was different. 

He couldn't always put his paw on what set Black apart, but that something led to a strong satisfaction of presence and thick admiration for the wrongly accused man-dog. 

Crookshanks set out. A strong scent and high-pitched squeaking led the way. The use of an Invisibility Cloak couldn't hide those features. There was a rustling of cloaks, and then the rat shot out from under the cloak. Crookshanks pounced after him, and a lanky boy chased after the two of them. 

~+~+~+~

Vala stood up, crossed the room, and sat down beside Saxon. In Malfoy fashion, her lips drew back to reveal her white teeth, and curved in a frighteningly friendly smile. 

The witch, who attached her cigarette to a long, thin holder, let it dangle. The revelation of fear only lasted a moment, and she pressed the end of the holder to her lips, sucking the nicotine through the thin cylinder. 

"How delightful," Vala complimented through crisp lips, "That my dear husband gets on so well with the ladies." She extended a hand in horrifying pleasantness, "And who might you be, my dear? Besides ten years my junior, I mean."

The witch rose her chin haughtily and managed to shake Vala's hand without digging her long, sharp nails into her pale hand. "The name, I'm sure you've heard before, would be Gale Solitaire." 

"Ah, Solitaire, yes I believe I've heard the word before," she responded. She leaned forward. "But still, I must admit I'm curious," she began in a friendly whisper, "Is it really that lonely of a life that you must resort to flirting with married men?"

"That is enough-" Saxon tried to interrupt.

She waved a hand nonchalantly. "No, no, let the girl answer for herself."

Gale stared. She was unsure of herself, and she let it show. Fool, Vala insulted silently, never show your true emotions. She recovered wonderfully. "Why, I simply thought he might enjoy the splendor of one night with a woman who knows how to use her body," she countered. "How knows, perhaps I could even produce him an heir." She leaned forward as well, "A simple battle you've been losing for years."

Some guests shuffled closer, sipping their wine and shooting glances at the pair. Those were Malfoy guests for you. They could sense rising tension through five cement walls. 

"Ladies," Saxon tried to save desperately. A fight was not in his intentions tonight. 

"With the presence of heavy practice, I'm sure you're a loose breeding ground for every man and his brother!" Vala snapped, springing to her feet and finally pulling out her wand. She waved it at the witch. "Come on then, to your feet, wench!"

~+~+~+~

Ron pounced, and caught the rat. Soon after, the cat leapt unto him, scratching for the rat, and hissing dramatically. 

It was only a matter of time. The soft thud of heavy paws was heard. The three confused, and slightly eccentric, children looked up. One with particular scruffy black hair reached for his wand, but the force of two front paws hitting his chest sent him over backwards. Yellowed, inch-long teeth showed themselves, and thick breath rolled over his face. It only lasted a moment, for a second later the dog rolled off of Harry, and rounded for another attack. Only this one was directed at a new victim. 

Ron stared wild-eyed at the dog, and he attempted to shield his face. The dog's jaws clamped over Ron's arm and began pulling him to the trapdoor under the Whomping Willow. 


	24. Possum Kingdom

Possum Kingdom

__

I'm not gonna lie   
_I want you for mine   
My blushing bride   
My lover, be my lover yeah..._

Don't be afraid   
I didn't mean to scare you   
So help me Jesus

I can promise you   
You will stay as beautiful   
With dark hair   
And soft skin, forever   
Forever

"Now, ladies, there's no cause for argument," Saxon smoothed over. 

"Tell me, Saxon," Vala started, pointing her wand at the glaring witch. "What connection do you have to this girl? A Solitaire," she spat, "What is your relationship?"

He sighed lazily. "We're simply acquaintances. Now lower your wand." 

"Oh, simple acquaintances? Well then," she began craftily, not letting her intentions yet known. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if she were excommunicated."

"Pardon me?" he asked. He wondered what she meant, but quickly decided it must be a form of an insult. "I will not let you talk to my guests like that." 

"Guests? I thought she was only an acquaintance," she sneered. She motioned her wand upward. "Get out, Solitaire." She moved closer. "I'll give you five minutes to get out of my sight… And if you fail that simple task, well…" her voice lowered to a whisper as she held her face four inches from Gale's face. "I'm quite unstable, and who knows what I'm capable of? Living in such a world I often lose grasp of what's fantasy and what's real. Why, I believe the thin line separating them is already erasing itself." She stood back and pointed her wand at Gale's face. Closing one eye, she positioned herself to curse the witch. 

Gale sat unmoving. Mentally, Vala began counting. 5, 4… Gale shot a few glimpses, one long one in particular at Saxon. 3, 2… Gale held her purse close to her bosom. 1… Gale shot to her feet and dashed from the hall. Vala closed her eyes and lowered her wand, a cemented smile plastered to her lips. 

She picked up the fallen cigarette, quickly burning a hole in her good white tablecloth, and pressed it between her lips. She inhaled, half-lidded her eyes, and said with the air of someone commenting on the weather, "Well, what are you all waiting around for?"

~+~+~+~

Buckbeak watched from his hideout in the Forbidden Forest. Through the thick foliage, he dug for worms. He wasn't tied to the fence post anymore, and there weren't any pumpkins around. Just when he was starting to enjoy himself some kid had crept up, untied him, and led him away. His master and those men were still inside. He dug deeper. Depression hinted at his disappointment. He'd found a good bundle of worms over in the pumpkin patch, but over here… Over here were things odder than overgrown pumpkins, and yet no worms. 

A spider crawled over some damp leaves. He contemplated about eating it, but then he heard something. The back door of his master's hut had opened. All was quiet, even the fidgety bushy-haired one. 

A short argument and notes of amazement followed. The tall brute threw his ax into the fence, and Hagrid began sobbing. His master. Buckbeak pulled against the rope. He had to get to his master. Blasted! Why the restraints? He could break them. But the obnoxious little kids pulled on his leash, and wouldn't him let free. Didn't they understand? He had to get back! 

Dumbledore exchanged a word with the rude men, and then he and Hagrid reentered the hut. The sun was beginning to set. There was a short and anxious conversation, and then the brats led Buckbeak away. 

~+~+~+~

"That was most unnecessary," Saxon drawled, closing the bedroom door. The party had been shortened when the guests got wind of the Hippogriff's fate. Turned out he got away. Walden Macnair had contacted the party via fireplace. He'd told them someone had stolen the Hippogriff and escaped, and worse of all, Dumbledore was playing up to the idea without releasing any information. The guests had groaned, shared another drink, and retired to their homes. 

"Threatening young Solitaire like that."

Vala sat on a padded stool in front of her vanity mirror. She tilted her head to one side, carefully unclipping her right earring. 

"Quite unnecessary," he repeated, drawing closer. "But don't let me to be the last to admit…" he trailed, bending on one knee, and bringing his hands against her triceps. He kissed the exposed neck. "… that is was also quite sexy." 

She stared emptily at their reflection. She could only see the thick tresses of his obsidian hair as his lips traveled up her neck. He kissed the crook behind her jawbone, his hands trailing the length of her biceps and reaching her shoulders. His smooth fingers tightened around the straps of her dress gown, a soft laugh escaped him. 

Vala closed her eyes, blocking out the image presenting itself to her. And the night began in a tearing of silk and exposing of skin. 

~+~+~+~

Buckbeak busied himself in the new surroundings. Maybe he'd have better luck finding worms over here. The male of the two said something excitedly. Buckbeak glanced up. A tall boy was sprinting across the lawn. Then he was accompanied by a couple parallel to the two standing next to him. The matching couple near the Whomping Willow was... well, they were whomped. 

"Ouch--look, I just got walloped by the tree--and so did you--this is _weird--"_

If Buckbeak could understand more human than his name and a few random commands he would have nodded and replied, "You're telling me, brother." 

The couple disappeared into a hole while the same couple stayed next to Buckbeak. Talk about a mind psyche. Buckbeak stirred, and resumed his search for worms with the hopes of perhaps coming across a small mouse. 

"Here comes Lupin!"

Buckbeak looked up lazily. This was really getting old fast. Everything was a little drama to these two. Why, they were worse than Hagrid. Another argument unrolled. One even tried to escape. Buckbeak couldn't blame him. If he weren't tied up he'd try to escape from that bushy-haired beast too. But then his attention was redirected--Hagrid! The half-giant was making a slow waltz up to the castle. He had to get free, but those bloody brats! They were holding on too tightly! And he was gone. Buckbeak stopped tugging and let his head droop. How depressing, he was stuck with these brats for good. 

~+~+~+~

The candlelight made images flit across the glossy ceiling. Vala watched the images, occasionally closing her eyes and breathing a moan. She scratched at Saxon's shoulder, tilting her head up and against his bare skin. Sparks flew and sparks glittered, but sparks disappeared as quickly as they appeared, and though he was having fun, no child would be conceived. 

~+~+~+~

Another tall, malicious looking man showed up, skimming across the grass and picking up a disregarded cloak. Tension rose in the atmosphere, and the man disappeared under the tree. So that was it. That was what they were waiting for? 

The female tied the end of his leash around the nearest tree, and took a place on the ground. Buckbeak laid his head between his forelegs; it was going to be a long night. 

The male sat down as well. And then began the long monologue of one hero to another. 

Again, he began his endless search of worms. 

Over an hour later, an excited whisper exclaimed, "Here we come!" Buckbeak raised his head. One by one everyone who had once disappeared under the Whomping Willow was now making a reappearance. And another argument rolled around.

Buckbeak would have rolled his eyes, if he had the knowledge to. What was it with these two? They never quit. And he was growing more and more restless of the snappy, furry one. 

Another urgent distress, and they untied him. They squeaked and they complained, and then they dragged him back to Hagrid's. It was about time. He was ready to go home to his master. They swung the door open, Buckbeak hustled in, and they slammed the door. Oh, was he content to be home… but, where was his master? Ahs well, at least he was home. He stepped towards the fire, spread his wings to their full wingspan, and folding them up just as easily. He lay down and prepared himself for a nice, relaxing nap. 

~+~+~+~

Vala lay alongside Saxon, who slept on his stomach. The candle had long since burned out, but she continued to stare at the ceiling. Was this the price I had to pay, she thought, to save my Remus? She sighed and rolled on her side, away from Saxon. Was this the way it was supposed to be, she continued to ask. Things had been so perfect… my life had been so perfect. Damn Voldemort and his corrupting of men's hearts… My life would have been so different. But I can't help thinking… would it have been better? Sure, the Potters would still be alive, but what difference would that make? I wouldn't have even known them. I would never have met Remus, or Peter, or even Sirius… and Saxon would still be a kind and loving person. My parents would still be alive, but I'd still have married Saxon. I wouldn't have these regrets, that's for sure, but would I have ever met Grant or Fae? With my parents alive, I wouldn't have needed help carrying my trunk aboard, and Fae would have had no reason to speak with me… Then her thoughts took another turn. Why _did _Fae ever talk to me? It was something about Mrs. Norris… but what? That's right, Raissa wanted me to know about she and Filch, but why? Hmm…

~+~+~+~

The snappy brat pulled on his leash, and tugged him towards the male. She scolded him, and then they retreated behind a bush. There the couple talked, and Buckbeak waited. He waited, and he waited… Well, then. He sat down, and began ferreting for worms again. It was turning out to be an uneventful night while being a chaotic night at the same time, if that made any sense to his feeble mind. 

Another lone figure crept out into the night. Seemed everyone was sneaking out of their dwellings tonight. The female brat placed her hands on his back, and the male helped her up unto his back. Then the male crawled up unto him, pulled the rope across Buckbeak's neck and strung it into the other side of his collar. The digging of a rider's heels into your side would make any animal start, and they flew off into the night. 

~+~+~+~

A black sheet loosely wrapped around her, Vala sat at the window. Bright beams of moonlight fell across her pale skin and chestnut hair. Slowly, she tilted her chin up, looking into the bright orb. A hand reached her necklace. 

He always promised to be there for me, even in death, she remembered. But he was killed, and broke his promise… Then he was replaced. How quickly things change… Before I knew it positions changed, and I became the parent. She brushed a loose strand from her eyes. "Where are you now, Remus? I worry for you so," she whispered. 

~+~+~+~

Gale strode through the night. "A Solitaire," she mimicked. She rose her chin haughtily, "If only she knew what we Solitaires are capable of…" Yes, the Solitaire's were known for standing their ground, and the Solitaires were known for fighting well. Gale did not break this tradition. She was neither the oldest or youngest Solitaire, and little attention was paid to her, so she was not worried about word getting around about her defeat. 

She kicked at a stone. "I could have killed her," she cursed. And she could have… had the circumstances been different. Vala was a thin, sickly looking woman, who had turned the simple thumb wrestle of childbirth into a full-fledged boxing match. Gale could have dueled with her and won any day… any day but today. Today she stood up. Today she threatened someone. Today she had an evil glint in her eye. She was determined, and though the odds were strictly against her, she would have won. 

Gale sneered; it just about figured. The one day she had to fight was the one day she was put up against an unconquerable component. 

A shadow shot behind her like a blackened bullet. She spun on her heel. 

She hesitated, then she narrowed her eyes; one loss was acceptable, but certainly not two. "Who's there?" she demanded. 

The shadow dashed behind her again. As she was turning, he leapt out into view. Landing in a preying position, he slowly rose to his feet, staring into her eyes with a steady bronzed gaze. 

__

(A/N: Finally, my exams are over and I'm out of school! I planned to get this chapter up during exams, but I got a little preoccupied. Sorry to keep you waiting!)


	25. Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping Beauty

__

sleeping beauty poisoned and hopeless   
far beyond a visible sign of your awakening 

failing miserably to find a way to comfort you   
far beyond a visible sign of you awakening 

and hiding from some poisoned memory   
poisoned and hopeless sleeping beauty

The man circled her predatorily, careful not to stray into the moonlight. 

Gale locked their eyes, turning slowly to watch his every move. "Who are you?" she asked in a heavy whisper, tilting her head a bit to better peer at him. 

He stopped, and he bowed, his sleeves sweeping in large arcs. She started. The ones trusting enough to expose the back of their neck on first meetings were either very dangerous or very stupid. He looked up at her, smiled, and stood erect.

He extended a hand, palm inward. She accepted the gesture and placed her hand, palm down, on top of his. He kept unwavering eye contact, and slowly lowered to kiss her hand. "That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet," he quoted, kissing her hand. 

Her lips curled into a soft smile; it was always obvious about intentions with this type. "And by which flower might you be called?"

His lips drew back to reveal his flawless white teeth. "Only by the simplest one there is, and yet the most complex..."

~+~+~+~

Vala woke up alone. It didn't surprise her; she'd been waking up alone for nearly twelve years now. She untangled the vines of sheets, and wrapped a thin, deep green robe around herself. A brown barn owl tapped timidly on the window. She stared at it, a piece of parchment pressed between its beak. Fixing the collar of her robe, she walked to the window, and let the owl in. Unlike other owls, it skipped a trip around the room and landed obediently on the chair. It dropped the note into her hand and flew away, without a treat or a broken leg. 

In an unfamiliar cursive where the words inscribed:

he's innocent.

She stared at it long and hard, and crumbling it slightly, she shoved it into a pocket. Barefoot, she made her way down the black marble stairs. She stopped on the last step, her hand slightly gripping the robes near her thigh, and the other touching the marble rail. 

"…Macnair was sent for the Dementors, and when he returned Black had escaped. The Prophet has been having a Field Day with it," Saccade reported.

"And no hint of him since?" Saxon asked desperately.

"Afraid not."

"What other stories are there surrounding this?"

"Uh…" she heard a rustling of paper. "Ah, here." He handed the paper to Saxon.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, mumbling over the words. "… in an attempt to attack Harry Potter…"

Vala reached into her pocket to retrieve the anonymous letter, but when she tried to reread it, the words had vanished. Her brow wrinkled, that was odd.

She stepped down and entered the hallway. Saxon ignored her and continued to read the paper while Saccade turned to watch her. An off-balance smirk crossed his lips. "Morning, Glory." 

"Good morning, Saccade… What's that, Saxon?" 

His brow furrowed, and he tossed the paper back to Saccade. "Nothing, dear. How did you sleep?"

"Well," she replied, leaning into his chair. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her unto his lap. 

Saccade shoved the paper into a pocket. "I better be on my way," he smirked. "I've got a lady waiting for me on the stroke of noon."

"Don't follow her into any dark alleyways," Vala reminded. "That run in with the banshee was a close shave."

The smirk grew wider. "Nothing I can't handle, my love." And he left. 

"What's this about Harry Potter?" she asked delicately. 

Saxon sighed, and shifted under her weight. 

"Saxon?" she pressed.

He brought a hand to his chin, and stared off through the window. "Seems our good escapee from Azkaban has paid a little visit to Boy Wonder…" 

~+~+~+~

"You're up early," Grant greeted, leaning against the doorframe. 

Fae didn't so much as bother to glance at him. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, craning his neck to look over her shoulder, though he was too far off to see much. 

She held up a finger and shushed him loudly. 

He frowned, and propelling himself from the frame, drew closer. 

Fae sat cross-legged, cards splayed in front of her. With great ease, she set another down, and tracing a finger above them, calculated silently. 

Like a confused parakeet, Grant's head dropped to one side. He could've tweeted. 

She sighed heavily, and pulled the cards in. "Damn," she cursed. Society was Hell, and socializing was a game of the damned. When you began speaking, you began making friends, and then you were really cursed. The things people sacrifice for friends… time, love, enjoyment… sleep. When a friend has been cooped up for weeks, you sneak her out for a midnight stroll; when a friend has to finish a model of a house before six tomorrow, you make the furniture and help build the walls; when a friend is harassed, you stand up for her and throw a few punches around… Finally, when things haven't been quite right for your friend, you wake up and worry. Fae had been up since four. 

She shuffled the cards again, cut them a few times, brought them together, and began lying them out again. 

"Fae?" Grant asked softly. He sat down next to her. "What are you doing?" From the corner of his eye he spotted movement, and turned his head to stare. A quill stood on its tip, scrolling across tiny scraps of paper. 

He glanced around him, his brow furrowing. Paper coated the floor. He picked one up. 

full moon.

If possible, his eyebrows knitted more tightly, and he picked up another. 

the rat.

He twisted to look around him, picking up scraps along the way. Nonsense phrases and words were scrawled across each one.

"Fae?" he addressed, handfuls of the collected paper pressed forward. "What _is _all of this?"

"What?" she muttered hurriedly, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, and turning to see what he held. "I don't know," she snapped, lying out another card. 

Perhaps for the first, Grant noticed they weren't regular playing cards. She held a stack of colorful and slightly faded oracle cards. 

A brown barn owl swooped inside, glared at Grant, and nipped a piece of parchment from him. With the spread of its wings, the owl was out before it had really registered for Grant. "Wha…? Where's he going?"

"Delivering, of course," she snapped. 

Grant frowned, and dropped all the shreds of paper unto the floor. "What's going on?" 

She turned to look at him, and suddenly she looked extremely tired. 

Grant closed his mouth, and slowly dropped his gaze. 

Fae rose a hand to Grant's cheek, softly rubbing her thumb across it in circular motions. Touching the back of his neck, she brought him closer, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Grant," she whispered, "It all begins today." And a thick tear rolled down her cheek. 

~+~+~+~

"Remus," Vala greeted, an aristocratic taste in her mouth. "How do you feel? I've missed you." 

"I…" he wrung his hands. "We have to talk, Vala." A smile tugged at his lips. 

She smiled softly. "Of course…" she trailed, observing her surroundings. They were inhabiting a darkened alley, and she wasn't quite sure why. Summer was breathing across the land, and the sun danced in the sky. She'd expect a stroll through a park over an alley; it just wasn't… his way of things. It just wasn't _stylish_. _He never was very fashionable_, she reminded with a smirk. 

"Have you heard the news today?" 

She redirected her eye contact. "No, why?" _No, he was nothing compared to--_

"Sirius," he said, "He came to Hogwarts."

She stared, and managed to sputter, "Wha-at?"

He handed over the newspaper. "Don't believe everything you hear, but you're--Vala? Are you listening? Snap out of it, Vala."

"Wha-at?" she pleaded from her daze. 

"He's been out of Azkaban for long time now, Vala… Vala? You have to keep with me now. Please, if nothing else, just listen to me now…" In an attempt to keep her attention he spoke her name at the end of each statement. He felt like a teacher, helping a child with severe case of ADD grasp the small strings of attention. 

"--He came back to Hogwarts, but he wasn't after Harry--" and this he said on the curb of glee. One little push and he might fall into the grass of giddiness. 

She stared, and she blinked, but none of it was absorbed. All the vowels and all the constenants fell into a jumbled mess of chaos, and everything she heard was drowned out by the pounding of her confusion. 

"--He's innocent, Vala, he's innocent… Peter's alive!"

She reached back, and swung a hit at Remus. "No!" she shouted. "No! He's dead! And Sirius is guilty!" She missed the hit, but her fists balled up none the less, and she kicked at an upturned box. "No!" she repeated. "He killed the Potters and he killed Peter!" She hit Remus' chest. "There were witnesses, Remus! Witnesses!" she insisted. "What did they see?" she demanded. "What did **I** hear?" 

"Vala, Vala!" he tried to reason. He attempted to wrap his arms around her, but she fought, slapping her palms against him and crying. 

She broke, and she gave in. "They died, Remus, they died… and he did it. He was their Secret-Keeper, Remus… Why are you doing this to me?" 

"Shhh… Shhh…" he cooed softly. "There, there…" He rocked her as much as an upstanding man could, and rubbed her back. "Don't you see, Vala?" he asked gently, pulling back the veil of lies. "It was never Peter who tracked Sirius down, it was the other way around, Sirius tracked _Peter _down… Peter was their Secret-Keeper."

She looked up with tear-stained cheeks. "What?" she whispered in a hush.

He nodded, and she shook, burying her head into his robes. 


	26. Blister in the Sun

Blister in the Sun

__

When I'm out walking

I strut my stuff yeah

I'm so strung out

I'm high as a kite

I just might stop to check you out

let me go on

like I blister in the sun

let me go on

"Frank!" 

"Yo, Jesse!" 

The brothers grasped hands and embraced. Born in the same state, the same town, same hospital, one room away from each other, a few seconds apart. They were alike in every respect, from their dyed hair to their aligned opinions to their tattooed wrists. But in truth, they weren't brothers at all. However, they never let the little details get in the way. That was work of the smaller, more tedious man. Their only job was to lead, arrange meetings, and make sure everyone came out with their head still intact with their neck. 

"You get the message?" Jesse asked, clapping his brother on the back, and leading the way down a cobblestone street. 

"I always do, and I sent out for the others." 

"Oh? When are they due to arrive?" Jesse asked, looking out for the gang. Frank and Jesse had created a pack back in their early school days, and quickly recruited Bonnie and Clyde. Later, they adopted Billy as a younger brother, and fairly recently Bob and Charlie had joined. Before they knew it, they were well known for their Robin Hood antics, and often called the James Gang. They were outlaws, but they were well-driven outlaws by a powerful force called determination. They were determined to make a change, however small, though they aimed for the larger, and they were determined to come out on top of things. And when you got down to it, they were really just good-hearted individuals only looking out for the better of society. 

Frank looked around as well. "Any moment now, I should think." 

A lean, but built man Apparated on the spot. "Frank, Jesse," he greeted. He clasped each of their hands casually, and leaned against a wall. Cupping his hands near his lips, he lit a cigarette, and inhaling, he shook the match out. 

"How's life been, Billy?" Frank struck up. 

He smirked, shaking his head a bit. Billy was a simple kid, just graduated from Hogwarts. He was only seventeen, but had been in the gang for a number of years. And despite his age, he was a very talented boy. He had a family, somewhere, but they never had the time to get to know him. Lazy in affairs that didn't appeal to him, he never convinced them to give some up. "Life's been great." He folded his arms behind his head. "So… What's this about?"

"You'll hear when everyone's here," Jesse replied. 

"Everyone?" Billy's eyebrows rose. "We're waiting on Bonnie and Clyde, then?"

Jesse didn't bother to answer as two distinct figures were making their way towards them. The cigarette dropped from Billy's lips. He propelled himself from the wall.

"Who called on the Ford brothers?" he asked in disbelief. 

"I did," Frank answered, which held the same as 'We did.' in the Gang. 

"Bob, Charlie," Jesse greeted, stepping forward. "Glad you could make it." 

Unlike Frank and Jesse, Bob and Charlie really were brothers. The Ford Brothers, as they were often called, were the newest members of the James Gang, and were often despised by Billy the Kid. Charlie was the eldest and Bob the youngest, if there was a sister mixed somewhere in there the Gang never knew, nor did they care to ask. The Ford Brothers were bullies, who never quite got the hang of properly applied justice. Charlie was a thinker and a pusher; Bob was a twisted-minded fool, who envied Jesse for his leadership and Clyde for his fiancée. 

They shared mirrored grins. Charlie arched an eyebrow. "Who invited the Kid?"

Bob, the smaller of the two, smirked wickedly. 

Billy attempted to leap forward, but Frank thrust his arm across the boy's chest. Jesse was often the cool-speaker while Frank reinforced discipline and obedience. 

The tension was broke by the calm ring of a woman's voice. "Gentlemen," she smiled, "You called?" She wore a thick-strapped and short-skirted Muggle dress made from crimson red leather with a low-neckline. She shifted on one of her five-inch high, spiked heels, and the dress made a rubbery squeak.

Jesse stepped forward. "So glad you could make it, Bonnie--Clyde."

Clyde touched the tip of his hat and made a vague wave. His choice of clothing was less shocking, but all the more classic. Like his match, he wore Muggle clothes. His black shoes reflected the light of a thousand candles, and his black, silver-pinstriped suit creased miraculously. Everything was perfect down to the red carnation pressed inside his pocket, and the silk stripe circling his hat. Under it all, he wore a shirt the same shade of red as Bonnie's dress, but certainly not the same material. 

Bonnie and Clyde had been together for as long as anyone could remember, but their never-ending engagement had never succeeded in leading to marriage. It never mattered, to them marriage was sprinkled with jealousy and deceit while engagement was sparkled with love and affection. If they could act like young, engaged lovers for all eternity, they were perfectly content. 

Charlie lifted a tin box from his pocket. He opened it and pulled shreds of chewing tobacco from it. 

Another stretched squeak indicated Bonnie shifting feet. Despite her appearance of a young, ravenous hooker, Bonnie was quite the lady. However, like an unmarried woman, she felt no shame in showing off her more attractive pieces; just so long as wandering eyes didn't waver too high, or too low in other cases. Also, like a strong-minded woman, she didn't allow any man to touch her… unless, of course, the hands belonged to her beloved Clyde. 

The awkward silence was overcome by Frank. "I assume you all received word of Black's alleged escape and capture?"

"And re-escape," Bonnie backed up dryly.

"Yes," Jesse took over. "And as suspected, a team has been set out to recapture him."

Bob brightened. A large task for a short, filthy man like himself. Though short, he always took his height to advantage. After all, he stood at Bonnie's shoulder, and when she wore those heels… well, let's just say his view was very much to his liking. 

Billy scowled, and had to look away. 

"I wasn't talking about us," Frank responded, frowning at Bob. Speaking as one, Frank and Jesse generally used the singular noun; because when speaking of one brother you might as well be speaking of the other, as they were identical in every way imaginable, despite their appearances. It also made things less confusing, while making things extremely confusing for damn near everyone else. It never phased the Gang much anymore; they were rather used to it. 

"We're," and 'we're' meant the Gang, We was never used in accordance to Jesse and Frank alone, "Only here to protect." Jesse rose his hands to his hips. 

"Black was lonely and powerless, but now that he's returned to an old friend…" Frank's sympathetic façade quickly shot ice-cold bullets at each of them. "This is the man who escaped from Azkaban--a jail overrun by Dementors--" and here Bob shivered "--And I do not want any of you to fight him, let alone devise plans to catch him."

"He is a ruthless murderer-" Jesse said.

"-and we've dealt with that type before-" Frank said.

"-but we've never dealt with his type before."

"What I'm saying," concluded Frank, "Is that I want you to be careful out there." And 'you' meant each of them. 

"And if you decide to break any of my set rules, then you will have me to answer to," Jesse continued.

"Do you understand me?" Frank finished.

The Gang nodded in unison, either in agreement to everything that was said or simply in amazement of their perfectly aligned thoughts. One would swear they were twin brothers, identical thought patterns, and identical habits, lost at birth. But this of course was a joke, as Frank was a 6'2" black man and Jesse a pale white man standing at 5'7". 

They even had identical stares. Those squinty stares that say, 'Are you listening?' and then the unsquinting of the eyes, and raising of the eyebrows and chin, which said, 'Yeah, you better.' Nobody fooled around with the James Brothers. 

Billy wondered why. _He_ often did. They were full-grown men with Dennis Rodman hair coloring and occasional mohawks with gutter punk attire. What wasn't to fool around with? It had to be the stare… what else was there? 

"Alright," Bob began slowly, each word an inner battle, "If we're not tracking down Black… Then who are we protecting?"

Frank smiled pleasantly. Billy grinned; it was one of those life-shattering delightful smiles that said, 'I know you're an idiot, so I'm going to break this down into little words so your feeble mind can understand it.' Billy knew; it was the smile Frank reserved for Bob alone. 

Jesse whipped out a picture. "_This _is who we'll be protecting."

Frank tapped the picture, "A looker, ain't she?"

~+~+~+~

"… and, if you'll excuse the Muggle metaphor, the ball's in our court."

Two round gray eyes tilted up to look at Lupin, an odd but appealing flower, and she tossed thick locks of blond hair over her shoulder. She dropped her eyes again. "This is a poorly devised plan."

"Oh? I'm sorry I can't agree with you." 

Gale planted her face between her leveled palms and sighed. "This is pointless."

He stood in front of the large window, daring for an unseen assassin to shoot at him. His lips drooped at the corners. "Why I listen to you…" he muttered, passing a hand over his forehead, and gracefully taking a seat. 

"You're not that much older than me, you know," she snapped.

"No, but I have fourteen more years of time and experience to my name."

"Oh, because you can really learn a lot when you're one," she retorted nastily. 

And he realized why he never bothered with natural blondes. His mouth dropped open a bit, and he stared at her. He just shook his head, feeling it pointless to dignify her comeback with a reply. She was a lost cause.

"You have a few well-made points," she began brightly, thinking she won, "But your ideas are weak and won't get us any closer to the goal."

He rose his shiny-new penny-eyes to her. "Our goal?" he echoed. "There is no 'Our goal.'"

"Well, sure there is… You want to get Vala and I want to get _back_ at Vala," she replied delicately.

"That would be your goal and my goal, they are two separate things."

"Not really… You see, you need me to keep Saxon preoccupied and I need you to get Vala out of the house."

"See, that would be our_ plan_," he replied, his eyes drifting to the window. "Not our _goal_."

"Well then," she pouted. "We both have to get her out of the house."

"For entirely different reasons."

"But we need each other to do that."

"Wait, what did you say about preoccupying Saxon?" he asked, bringing his eyes back to her. 

"I can preoccupy him while you sneak Vala out of the house." She bounced a little.

"And how do you plan to do that?"

An evil grin crossed her lips, and it suddenly struck him that she was a true Solitaire. She thrust her chest slightly forward, and moved provocatively. "Because **no** true man can resist me."

~+~+~+~

"Her name is Vevila Amoureux, and she is the wife of Saxon Malfoy," Jesse introduced.

"Isn't he the son of Ares Malfoy?" Bonnie asked mildly.

"Yes," Frank affirmed.

She smiled haphazardly. "He is _very_ sexy."

"I'm glad you think so," said Jesse, "Because we may need you to lure him away, if it ever comes to that." 

She brushed a hand across Clyde's shoulder and frowned. "I said Malfoy _Senior_ was sexy, the Junior is just a boy."

"Yes, the boy is about five years older than you," Frank grinned.

She puckered her lips and stuck out her tongue at him. 

"Now you know Clyde gets restless when you make seductive passes at me," Frank jested. 

She breathed a laugh and turned her head to look at Clyde. He smiled slightly and she kissed him on the cheek. 

"Uh… Who are we protecting her from again?" Bob asked carefully. 

Jesse sighed; Bob never had a very good memory. "From Sirius Black."

"Oh," he nodded, "Okay." 

Billy lit another cigarette, and tipped his cowboy hat down. He hadn't said a word since the meeting started. He leaned further against the wall, stooping a bit. 

Charlie spit out the rest of his chewing tobacco, and pulled some new shreds from his tin box. 

Bonnie shifted on the other heeled foot as she flirted with her long-time fiancé. 

Bob rubbed his hands together, and Frank sighed.

"Are there any more questions?" he asked.

"Yes," Bonnie prompted, "How is her relationship with Saxon?"

Frank exchanged a glance with Jesse. Frank shook his head, and Jesse answered, "From my understanding, not very well."

"Do they have any kids?" she continued. They all knew the deal, if there were kids involved the Gang would have to count her out. She didn't mess with marriages were children were present. After all, she didn't want some young know-it-all coming after her in a couple years time seeking revenge for the damnation of their parent's marriage. No sir, she lived a good life and she intended on keeping it that way. 

"No," Frank answered. "I know it's almost Malfoy tradition to have a first-born son, but from my understand they haven't even got a girl."

"Even better," she said, looking at Clyde. "That means the boy hasn't got anything my Clyde here can't offer," she grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Which means there's no temptation to leave him." Emitting a short laugh she locked lips with her lover. 

Jesse rolled his eyes. Billy clucked his tongue. 

"So uh, who's our employer?" Bob asked in a slightly higher octave than usual. 

Bonnie giggled, moving her hips from side to side and letting Clyde lower his hands to the small of her back. 

"Me," said Jesse, straightening up. Frank smirked.

"Then um… Who's your employer?" he tried. 

"You know I can't tell you that," replied Frank.

"Yes, um, of course," Bob agreed, nodding like a bobble head doll.

Charlie spit black. Billy glared.

Jesse clapped his hands; Bonnie and Clyde resumed their previous position of standing side by side, Bonnie inching down her skirt in squeaky jerks. "Can I count on all of you?"

"I'm in," Bonnie said, swaying her shoulders and ribcage. 

Clyde tipped his hat, an indication that he was in as well. 

"Yeah," said Charlie, spitting again. 

"Me too," chimed Bob. 

Jesse and Frank swung their heads in the Kid's direction. "You in, Billy?" Frank asked. "You know I can always use you." 

Billy flicked his cigarette, and rose his shoulders while sliding his hands into his hip pockets. He was another to favor Muggle clothes, generally donning a stereotypical cowboy hat and garments. He wore boots with spurs, and blue jeans with a loose collared shirt. All he was missing was the horse and the ridiculous leather leggings real cowboys wear. 

Actually, the only two who really wore the traditional Wizarding garb were Bob and Charlie. Occasionally, if the mood suit it, Jesse and Frank did, but for the most part they sported clothes one might wear to a rock concert. 

"Yeah, I'm in," he said, shaking his head, and looking away. He couldn't stand to stare at Charlie and his black spit or short Bob with his wringing hands. 

"Then it's settled, knew I could count on you," Jesse closed.

"Now get out of my sight," Frank said, waving a hand. "I'm sick of lookin' at you."

Clyde grinned, and swinging an arm around Bonnie's hips, they began to walk away. Passing Billy, the two men tipped their hats at each other, and the couple walked off into the night. 

Charlie smacked his hand across the back of Bob's head, and they walked off in the other direction. Joking and laughing, they disappeared under the slanting glow of the street lamps. 

Billy lifted himself from the wall. Frank opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. "What's on your mind, Kid?" 

"Care for another game of basketball? Frank here says he'll ownzor against us. Twenty bucks says he can't," Jesse smirked, clapping Billy on the back. 

"You two can't lie, right?" Billy asked, looking at the two like one might look at their older brothers while asking a serious question about sex. 

"Now I wouldn't go as far as saying we can't," said Jesse. Now that the meeting was over, they fell back to the traditional uses of We and I. 

"That's right, we just choose not to."

"Okay," Billy said, nodding knowingly. "Then I don't suppose you could tell me who we're really protecting Miss. Amoureux from, could you?"

The Brothers stopped. 

Billy grinned. "Honestly you didn't think I couldn't work it out? I know Black's innocent. And Dumbledore's behind all this, isn't he?"

"What makes you think that?" asked Jesse testingly.

"Because it's old Albus' style. Always trying to protect the innocent and such, only looking out for the right of things," said Billy. "He's kinda like us…" he reflected for a moment. "Only not as young and not as willing to get his hands dirty." 

"Right…" said Frank. "And who do _you_ think we're protecting her from?"

He shrugged. "Got me. Maybe ole Lupin? It's traditional Malfoy style to use our friends against us."

"Now how do you know about Lupin?" asked Frank casually.

"I do my research." 

Jesse patted his back. "Just keep thinking that, brother… it's the least complicated way of explaining matters."

Billy nodded, but then frowned. "And speaking of Malfoys using our friends against us… I don't trust those Ford Brothers."

Frank rolled his eyes, nodding. "Yes, we know, we know."

"I'm serious! They're dangerous and they're liars. I don't trust them anymore than I can throw them!"

"Little old Bob being dangerous?" said Jesse.

"And Charlie may be sarcastic, but a liar?" said Frank. 

"Still…"

"You just go on along now," said Jesse.

"Yeah, take a walk or somethin'," suggested Frank.

Billy fumed, and changed into an American foxhound. He growled and turned to trot off.

Frank's lips curled into a smile. "He was right about Dumbledore, you know."

"Yeah, and about Lupin."

They turned away from the changed Billy, and paroled down the street. 

"I don't know 'bout trustin' the Fords as far as I can throw 'em," said Jesse.

"Yeah," reflected Frank. "I can throw 'em at _least_ twelve feet." 

__

(A/N: I've been a little distressed over reading HP5, but no worries… I will finish this fan fiction and don't you go along thinking the end will be as predictable.)


	27. Tell Me

Tell Me

__

I guess your stories 

Make me feel like it's alright now 

Tell me what it's like to be with you 

Remind me of the things we used to do 

And tell me that this time will never end 

Tell me what it's like, tell me again

"Tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything," Vala reaffirmed. 

Remus rose his eyebrows. "This could certainly take awhile."

Vala sat down at the round kitchen table. "I've got the time. Saxon has some arrangements to make and then he's off to dinner with a few clients." 

"Oh… Tea?"

She shook her head. "No, I'd rather just get the facts."

His hands shook slightly as he lowered the teapot. "Yes, the facts…" He nodded, and faced her. "And where did we leave off?"

She smiled. "I believe it was, 'Peter was their Secret-Keeper…'"

~+~+~+~

"Yes, I've gained contact with the girl," said Lupin.

Ares Malfoy steepled his fingers. "And this doesn't seem peculiar to her?"

"Of course not. Would it to you?"

"Hmm…"

Lupin shook his head, and took a seat. "Perhaps I've said the wrong thing. She's a young girl, barely graduated and all the more ditzy. She's got some mind about her, and with a little guidance she can be quite useful."

"Yes, I'd like to think so." 

Lupin sniffed the air; it was like searching a rock for emotions. Rocks, that's what he liked to think of them as. They couldn't feel pain or guilt… They would just as soon slit the necks of their own kin for a little ranking. Ranking meant power, and power was everything. They had no spinal cords, which certainly didn't mean their backbones were absent as well. Oh no, they had backbones, perhaps too much. 

Lupin worked for many Rocks, but that didn't mean he liked it. He liked to be on his own. Making progress and getting paid for it. He liked his line of work. All it consisted of was stealth and tracking. Now that was something he was good at. He could've been an auror, but that was reserved for kind-hearted men with the foolish idea of making a change. A small change, but a change none the less. He wanted to make change, but he wasn't very kind-hearted. And his change was to thicken his wallet and make his pockets jingle. Oh no, let the sweethearts could take care of the law, while he avoided the law at all costs. 

Some did it for the killing. Some actually got a _drive _out of killing people. They liked to sneak up behind their prey, tap them on the shoulder, and just as they saw the whites of their eyes, hit them with the Killing Curse. They liked to see their victim's expression as they died. Not Lupin. Too many Assassins were killed that way. The hunted so quickly turned into the hunter, and vice versa. He was content with standing ten feet away, pointing his wand, and making a clean job of it. He wasn't a coward; he was just interested in getting the job done right. The sooner it was done the sooner he got paid, and _then _he was a happy man. 

He sighed, and dropped his hand restlessly. He usually didn't get mixed with family affairs. They got too messy too quickly. But alas, he was in it for the money, and the Malfoys were wealthy employers. 

"Love her."

He jolted upright. He was usually cool and reserved, but what had he said? "Sir?"

The edge of Ares' lip curled. "She's got some mind about her… With a little guidance she can be quite useful," he smirked. "A luckless girl in a big family. Show her what it's like to love and she's putty in your hands." He stood up, smoothed her coat and extended his hand. "It has always been a pleasure working with you, Mr. Lupin. I do hope I can count on your services again."

Lupin didn't move, he simply stared. Family affairs was over his limits, now this? 

"I will personally be sure your expenses and inconveniences are paid for," he assured.

What could he say? He was a man you could count on; just so long as you also counted on paying a good deal of money. He rose, and shook Ares' hand heartily. "Yes, I look forward to it…"

~+~+~+~

"So Sirius is innocent and Peter is alive…" 

"Yes," Remus nodded. 

"And Peter was in league with Voldemort?" Vala asked slowly. 

Remus winced. "I wish you-"

"Was he?" she demanded.

"Yes."

"So Sirius is innocent?" she said, gazing intently at Remus.

"Yes, I've alrea-"

"Is he?" she interrupted.

"Yes, yes," he nodded, "He's innocent."

She sat back and crossed her arms. "Then what are you waiting for?"

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Sirius has been wrongly accused, Peter faked his own death, and all you can do is sit around? Do something! Go to the Ministry! Clear his name! Something!" she threw her hands up in exasperation. 

"What am I supposed to do, Vala?" irritation spread across his face like wildfire. "Go to the Ministry? You don't think I want to? Yes, very intelligent idea, but you've forgotten one minor detail--I'm a werewolf. I'm dangerous and unkept… I haven't been shunned my whole life because I wear tattered robes and worn out socks," he bit with sarcasm. Few people saw Remus' agitated side. Truth be told, Vala had only seen it once or twice before. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. _I would join him any day,_ she thought, but had the mind not to speak it.

Agitated as he was, he was still a warm-hearted caring person and instantly regretted not biting his tongue. "I'm sorry," he apologized, burying his face in his hands. "I've been up since four trying to think of something, and I've only come up empty handed." He sighed. "It was only us four," he whispered. "And who'd believe a bunch of kids and a werewolf?"

Her eyes softened, and she leaned against the table, brushing the hair behind his ears. "I believe you," she comforted. "I always have… We'll find a way."

~+~+~+~

"Let's get to planning--we know how to distract Saxon, but…" Gale trailed, her eyebrows knitting together. "What's wrong?" 

Lupin was crouching in front of the window, staring off like a child entranced by a television. "Hmm?" he turned, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, I was just watching the," he rubbed his hands together, "The birds fly." He faced the window again and sighed. 

She glanced past him and out the window; it was night. Anyone less and she would have told him to get away from the window. It was the sensible thing to say; it was a large window and anyone could see him. He ought to draw the thick curtains and sit down at the round table. Nobody could see him there, and then maybe they could get some work done. But Gale had three older brothers and two younger. She was fast at detecting discomfort and concern. "Something on your mind?" it was a simple question and the way the reply was expressed, not the words themselves, told her the answer.

"No," he said softly, his eyes rolling towards the sky. 

She frowned. It was obvious that something discounted Lupin from the real world, but Gale felt it might be wise to remain silent on her observation. She scratched the back of her neck, and bending her head, she pressed the quill against the parchment. 

"I mean, even if we do manage to get Vala out of the house, what then?"

She rose her head very slowly, her thick blond hair falling over her shoulder in great locks. She focused her gray eyes on him, off guard and curious. She weighed him for a moment; her round pink lips round and pressed in a permanent pout. "Why, I do believe that is when you take over," she said. "I wanted my revenge on the prissy brat, but you've told me time and time again that it's not the time."

He looked back over his shoulder, the sun still high in the sky, "Yes, its not quite the time…"

"Are you a follower?"

He looked at her. "A follower? Oh, Vol--Him?" He shook his head and glanced back over his shoulder. "No, I'm only in it for the money, darling. Once my services are of no further use to them, I'm gone." 

She stood and drew closer. "No further use? What does that mean? Why, that could be, that could well be after His great comeback."

Lupin rolled his eyes to her. "Yes, I suppose it could be. But," he smiled slightly, "Why worry about tomorrow when we're still in today?" 

A smile powdered her lips. "Yes," she replied, "I've often said that myself."

~+~+~+~

"Remus," Vala's eyebrows furrowed. "When do I get to see Sirius again?"

Remus continued to stir his tea, and glanced up at her. "Well, I'm not sure…" he gingerly sipped the herbal brew. "I suppose it could just about be whenever. In any case, he knows where I live." 

"You've seen him, right?" she asked uncertainly. 

Remus fell uncomfortably silent.

"Remus?" she pressed. "You've seen him haven't you?"

"I…" he began hopefully, no sooner closing it with a frown. "No, I can't say that I have since the night in the Shrieking Shack." 

Her heart sank. "I'd hoped you wouldn't have said that…" She sighed and turned to the window, gazing intently over the lake. "You wouldn't perchance know how he escaped, would you?" she asked in a whisper. 

He paused before answering. Silently calculating the responses to his answer. "I wish it were my tale to tell," he said softly, looking down at the swirls in his teacup. She turned slowly to stare at him. 

__

CRACK

"Sorry to intrude, Vala," Fae bowed apologetically, "I thought you might be here, but I hoped to catch a word with Remus--if, of course, you do no object."

Vala stared. At length, she waved her hand in a shooing manner and insisted, "Take him, take him." 

"Right," Fae grabbed Remus' hand and dragged him to the next room. 

Vala sighed lightly, but lifted her tea and stood. She strolled to the screened back door, holding the teacup at elbow height. 

It had never been much of a lake, but it was certainly a feast for the eyes as the sun lowered, tossing crimsons and hues of orange across its smooth surface. The sun, a glorious yellow orb tinged with little orange and a golden outline, was slowly tucked to bed by the blue blanket of night. As she watched, the moon became more pronounced and the lake reflected it's silver beams. A black shadow crouched forward, sending smooth ripples across the mirrored surface of the lake.

Vala squinted. She had never seen a bear in this part of the woods. Actually, she'd never seen a bear in her life. Curiosity and perplexion crossed her face. Still staring at the animal, she set down her teacup and opened the door. Arms crossed, she leaned forward, squinting harder through the dark. 

The rhythmic lapping stopped as the beast paused to look up. It didn't growl, but simply lowered its head again in pursuit to moisten its dry throat. 

After examining the animal for ten minutes she clucked her tongue and turned to go back inside. The thing barked at her. Peering over her shoulder, and slowly turning to stare at the beast again, it wagged its tail frantically at her. 

"A dog are you…" she breathed. "Well, you ought to get out of here."

His head bent to one side and his ears perked curiously.

"Yes, that's right," she smiled, "These are the woods of a werewolf. No place for a dog to be traipsing around… Now go on, go home." She waved her hands at the dog. 

It regarded her for a moment, seemed to shrug, and turned on its heels. 

"Who are you talking to?" 

Vala turned, Remus appeared in the doorway, Fae had left. 

"Oh no one," she said lightly, stepping over the threshold. "Just some stray." 

Remus peered through the darkness, "What type of stray?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, picking up her abandoned cup and pouring its contents down the sink. "A large black one." 

"A large black one?" he repeated, his voice tensing. 

"Yeah, across the lake… Why?"

"Oh, no reason," he said, hastily closing the door and shuffling inside. "Just curious."


	28. When the Angels Sing

When the Angels Sing

__

When the angel of death comes to looking for me  
Hear the angels sing  
I hope I was everything I was supposed to be  
When the angels sing  
There's gotta be a heaven  
Cause I've already done  
My time in hell  
And a little  
Baby's born when it all comes down  
Hear the angels sing  


Bonnie sighed exhaustingly. "This is such a _bore_."

Two green eyes curved to her. Clyde gently searched his pockets, and withdrew a switchblade. With a flick of his wrist, the blade sprang forward. He rotated it slowly, letting the sun strike the sharper edges. His lips curled.

"I've had enough tricks for tonight, dear," she said. 

He held the knife steadily and slashed the air once. His eyes glinted as the smile grew wider. He rose his free hand, and wiggling his fingers, suggested the reality of it all. Bonnie had seen the trick a hundred times before, and though she attempted to look irritated, she failed, and the shadow of a smile grew. 

Concentration flashed across his face. His hand firmed, and his equipped hand pointed at the empty one. He made to stab it, Bonnie screamed and covered her eyes, but as always, when she peaked through her trembling fingers, the blade disappeared and he cradled a dove. 

"I hate when you do that!" she scolded, but the twitch at the corners of her lips said otherwise. 

He extended his hands to her, encouraging her to pet it. 

"Ooh no, I'm not falling for _that_," she said shakily.

He shook his hands gently, urging her to touch the bird. 

She sighed. "Oh, fine then."

Clyde could be very persuasive, for someone who never spoke. 

She stroked the bird, and holding it single-handedly, Clyde convinced her to place her hands over his. She did. He set his free hand over hers, and the bird began to vibrate. 

Her eyes widened. Some tricks never get old. 

Gingerly, he lifted his hand, allowing Bonnie to follow suit. The dove was no longer traditional white, but purple. He held up a finger to signify, one moment please, waved a hand over the dove, and it was blue. 

Bonnie smiled gracefully. 

A snap of the fingers, the dove was green. A click of the gun, the dove was red. A wink of the eye, the dove was aquamarine. 

Bonnie leaned in and kissed Clyde. The dove turned pink, and as the kiss deepened, to a crimson red. She moved away, batting her eyelashes softly. He swayed in his seat, then shaking his head a bit, tucked the bird into his breast pocket. 

Bonnie looked down the lane. "Any idea what we're waiting for?"

Clyde shook his head, patting his pockets. 

She stared at him. "What are you looking for now?"

He brought forth a small notebook and quill, flipped it to an empty page, licked the quill end, and began scratching across the page. He showed her his finished product.

"Oooh nooo… No way am I playing that game," she refusing, waving the notebook away. 

He shook the notebook at her, insisting she play.

"Oh fine," she huffed. He smiled, setting the notebook steadily on his knee and readying his quill. "Is there an A?"

~+~+~+~

He lowered his lips to her sleeping figure. Kisses trailing her arm down to her fingertips. "Gale," he whispered, "I have to leave."

Her eyes fluttered. "Mmm…" she hummed, "Must you?" 

"Yes," he said gently, "But I'll be back… Don't leave the room."

She folded her arm behind her head and smiled. "I won't." Her finger ran down his chest. "Don't keep me waiting."

He breathed a laugh, "I won't." In an agile movement he rolled from the bed and unto his feet. Buttoning his slacks and following with a well-knitted sweater, he threw on a traveling cloak. He stepped into his shoes and made for the door. 

"Lupin?"

He stopped, his fingers resting on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"I love you."

He paused, his breath catching. "Yes," he said, opening the door. "Be careful." And he left.

~+~+~+~

"What are you doing?"

"Something seems off balance…" Fae waved a hand over the crystal ball, catching wisps of air. 

Grant's eyebrows knitted. "What do you think is causing that?" 

"I'm not… exactly positive," she said uncertainly. She lit a stick of incense on her left and then another on her right. With a mastered spell, she snapped her fingers and twelve candles of various heights lit. For a shining moment they blazed, but soon fell to a misty glow. She stirred the incense into the air. "Oh the days," she mumbled, "When a cigarette was sufficient…" She rubbed her brow with one hand and mixed the thin mist above the glowing orb into a type of artificial fog with the other. 

"Shut the door on your way out." 

"Tea leaves and palmistry?" he said with a bite of sarcasm, looking deserted. Reluctantly but dutifully, he got up and went for the exit.

"And love?"

He paused hopefully. "Yes?"

"Don't jest about Divination--You know well enough that I failed the course."

"Which is beyond me," he rolled his eyes, stepping out, "You're a true Seer."

When she heard the door click, she muttered, "No, I'm just good at tapping minds… consider it a skill, not a gift." 

~+~+~+~

Lupin closed his eyes pensively. Oh, it'd been a long time. It was no wonder the house still stood; he'd seen magical shacks outlive Muggle mansions. That was the class of magic, it only went down with _style. _Even wizards died more glorious deaths than a car crash, unless, of course, it was a particular gory one. 

Though, there are exceptions to every rule, and then there were rule breakers.

You had the witches who refused to use magic during childbirth, it was reasonable enough, but it had the threat of claiming a life; sometimes two. Then, he smiled, the husband lives on in great despair, sleeping the days away in a mess of broken bottles and crushed cans and drinking the night away with hookers and cigars. 

Voldemort was another disruption of the perfect balance. Avada Kedavra had its uses, no doubt, but killing with a single curse? It wasn't even flashy; just a stream of green light. Despicable. A child had more imagination than that. Though, he supposed, one didn't rise above the rest by pushing back the boundaries of imagination; one used trickery and deceit, and when that failed--brute force. 

He raised his chin optimistically, _You'll never see **me** leaving without a fine exit_. He twisted the knob.

Vala stood up and stared. "What are you doing here?" 

~+~+~+~

"What about," she said carefully, "M?"

Clyde shook his head, smiling. 

"Damn," she swore, "What do I have so far?" He handed her the notebook. Her eyes scanned it. "Hmm… let's see… Cheese Is… four letters?" He nodded. "What about, 'Cheese is… Gross?'"

He shook his head and held up five fingers.

"Oh… Well," her forehead wrinkled. "How about a P? or an O?" 

He nodded, took the notebook, spelt 'Cheese Is _ oo _' and added the last leg to the Hanged Man. 

Bonnie swore. "Well, what is it then?" 

Clyde smirked and added the G and D to good.

"'Cheese is Good?'" she read aloud with a hint of annoyance. "Is that the best you could come up with?"

He shrugged, and began patting his pockets again. 

~+~+~+~

The question caught him off balance. He expected the place to be empty. A thousand explanations ran through his head, and then a thousand questions. He didn't know why she was here, but he had a good idea. He nodded knowingly, finally understanding Ares tiff with the girl. "I just… came to pick something up. Forgot it, you know? On my way out." 

She stared at him quizzically, but she did in fact take her seat. 

"Don't mind me," she said, "I was just leaving…" she sipped the rich hot chocolate from a chipped mug with the legend 'C is for Carol' scribed and fading across it. She read on, excusing his abrupt return. "Mmm…"

He paused, his breath hitching.

"Potions is on tonight. Do you still watch that?"

He entered the living room. "Only on occasions." His eyes folded over the surroundings. Things had certainly changed. Change isn't bad. Change can be good; only on the assumption that you find it in the deep tucks of a set of spare robes. Quite useful on those early mornings to buy a cup of coffee when you thought you were dead broke.

Her eyes traced down the page, skimming over blown up happenings and closely following the chase of Sirius Black. Well, chase was a bit too generous. It was more poking fun at the Prime Minister and his clueless goons. For the most part, Sirius dropped from sight. Nobody had seen him for well over a month. And she was glad of that. She wanted to see Sirius again, but at the same time she wasn't sure if she could. So much had changed. _I used to fancy him, _she mused, sipping her hot cocoa. _Yes, a school girl crush, but a crush all the same… Oh, but how things have changed! I'm married now. Married to a… oh, what's the use in pretending? I'm married to a, ah ha, to a cool, calculating bastard. But I love him. I suppose._

"Do you need help looking for anything?" she looked up inquiringly. 

"Uh…" his eyes shot into every corner, then- "No, no, I've got it quite under control." 

"I bet you do," she muttered, "Always cool and in control."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" 

He frowned. He didn't trust this girl. But what did that matter? He found what he was looking for. He lifted the black veil. The crystal sparkled.

~+~+~+~

"What the-" Fae leaned forward. The crystal blackened again. She sat back and rubbed her head. "Well, that was odd."

~+~+~+~

Lupin was busily covering the crystal ball.

Vala appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing with that?" 

He was silent, pretending to use his full concentration to cover the ball when really he was devising an excuse. He hadn't expected to find anyone at the flat, otherwise he'd of thought one up prier his appearance. 

"Just uh… er…" he only needed one to get out of the house. "Taking it down to the Lucky Clover. You know, ask old Ronnie a question or two."

"Why would you go there?"

"Well, you know…" he finally turned to look at her, the wrapped crystal in his hands. "Ronnie's a smart guy. Thought he might be able to answer a question or two for me."

She shook her head. "No, you misunderstood, his son took over management in the _Clover_ years ago."

"He has, has he? Well, old Ronnie still hangs around from time to time."

She shook her head again. "No, he's been living off the coasts of Ireland for a number of years."

"Oh, well… er… I'll just be going then, shall I?"

She stared. Then, leaning against the frame, "You've been acting rather oddly today. What's up?" 

He cringed inwardly. He _really _wasn't prepared for another excuse. "You know," he smiled, "I'd love to tell you _all _about it. However," he waved a finger, stepping forward, "I'm in a bit of a hurry so it'll have to wait for a later date." He set the crystal on a wobbly table, unawares that the veil had slipped off the side facing them. 

Swinging an arm around her waist, he dipped her.

~+~+~+~

Fae pounced forward. "Now we're getting something… Hey," her brow wrinkled. "Isn't that Remus and Vala--and oh my--" she clasped her hands over her mouth. "He's kissing her!"

__

(A/N: hehe… I feel naughty. One clue, The Quartet practiced in the park And Lennon read a book of Marx.)


	29. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

__

I don't know how you were diverted

You were perverted too

I don't know how you were inverted

No one alerted you.

Vala pushed Lupin away. "Remus!" she screeched. "I'm married!" She stood upright, rubbing the crease lines across her forehead. "And that's not even half of it! We're like, like--" her hand clasped over her mouth as well. "Holy--Merlin's Beard!"

For a weary minute he thought his cover was blown, but then--

"How long have you had these feelings for me?" she asked shakily, lowering her hand from her lips. 

"Er…" he grabbed the crystal and made a run for it. The door slammed behind him.

Vala stood aghast, trembling on the spot. "He's, he's… oh my god!"

~+~+~+~

"Sweet mercy," Fae mumbled.

"What's going on?" Grant inquired, poking his head in. 

"I, I," she waved her hands excitably. "I can't--eeeww…!" she cringed and bounced. "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!" she repeated in a frenzy.

"Woah," Grant stepped in, "What did you see?"

She covered her mouth, staring wild-eyed at him. "I just saw Remus kissing Vala!" She squeezed her eyes shut. "And there was tongue!"

~+~+~+~

Lupin hastened along the busy Muggle street. Paranoia worked in him like twine in an Easter basket. The crystal was tucked safely inside his cloak, and ducking into a deserted alley he was only half a mile from home. Home. Ha. Had he already started calling the empty room over a Muggle pub home? Amazing. Lupins certainly were a breed of their own. He shook his head, and quickened his stride. 

~+~+~+~

"He left in a hurry," Bonnie commented quietly. 

Clyde nodded. 

"Think it means anything?" she asked, her gray eyes tilting to him. 

Turning his head to watch the vacant front yard, he shrugged. Glancing at her, he tapped the side of his nose. 

"Yes, yes, I know…" she said wearily, "We're watching out for Black _not_ Lupin." She directed her stare back to the front yard. "That doesn't mean I trust him anymore."

He reached inside his breast pocket, pulled out a small notepad and quill. He licked the quill, scribbled something across the pad, and handed it to her. 

"'I thought you liked Black,'" she read aloud. "Yeah…" she said distantly, "But things were different then."

He nodded understandingly, looking away. 

After a minute of reminiscence, "Who's taking post after us?"

Clyde smiled and touched first the brim of his hat then the heel of his shoe. 

"Oh," she rolled her eyes. "The Kid." 

He nodded, smirk in place.

"And after him?"

The smirk grew. His eyes, half-lidded, rolled to her. 

"Let me guess--Bob and Charlie."

He had to blink the tears away as he nodded. 

"You're horrible," she scorned, though her lips were twitching. 

Clyde wiped at his eyes, then stiffened. 

"What is-"

He held up a finger, and glanced around. A soft smile crossed his lips. 

An American Foxhound leapt between two small bushes and barked. 

"Time's up already?" Bonnie asked, reaching inside Clyde's breast pocket and retrieving a golden pocket watch on a chain; it was amazing the things you encountered in Clyde's pockets, but amazingly so, you always found what you were looking for on first grabs. Bonnie had asked him about it before, but after an hour of failed attempts of answering the question they'd both given up in frustration. Now, if questioned about his pockets, he simply shrugged his shoulders and suggested witchcraft. "Guess so," she said, dropping the watch in Clyde's hands, who slid it into his hip pocket. 

Billy sat back on his haunches. He jerked his head towards the house.

"Nothing's really happened," Bonnie answered, accustomed to silent communication. "That Lupin fellow left about an hour ago, and Vala's been in there since… Then he showed up again, was inside for a fair ten minutes and nipped out again with something clasped in his hands." 

Billy tilted his head to one side.

"Judging how he was holding it, I'd say it was delicate… Of course, he was running so I could be well off."

Clyde nodded in agreement.

"I'm off or it was delicate?"

He held up two fingers, indicating the second option.

Billy sniffed the air. If dogs could frown, this one was certainly frowning.

Clyde tilted his head to one side. 

The dog whined twice, Clyde nodded slowly and pensively.

"Sorry, did I miss something?"

The dog's muzzle began to retract as the fur thinned and shortened. The fur on top his head grew and fell around his ears in a mess of blonde curls. His shoulders hunched forward and his shoulder blades slid back. His paws grew and separated as digits were established, the ears lowered and shortened; though they still held that permanent perky and curious pose. 

Bonnie smiled at the crouching figure. "Forget your spurs?"

Billy took the mocking with grace, and bent his elbows on his knees. 

Clyde tilted his head curiously, watching the Kid's every movement. 

Nobody knew quite why, but Billy fascinated Clyde. He was transfixed by everything the Kid did, and it was just as well because the Kid admired Clyde. The secret was, they understood each other. Being an Animagus, Billy was the only one who knew the sorrows of a mute. Luckily, there were other ways of communication. Body language, even for a dog. And as a mute, Clyde knew the sorrows of being underestimated. They were respected by several of their peers, but there was a certain amount of understanding between the two that no one could quite grip. And so, in silence, they were great friends. 

"I was saying," Billy said at length, "That it seemed two, and not one, men have visited the flat." 

"Two?" her brow furrowed. "But," she turned to stare at the house, "We only saw Remus."

He shrugged. "I'm only telling you what I smelled."

"Well, couldn't you follow one of the trails?" she asked, sounding slightly uneasy and desperate.

"I could," he said, "But what would be the point?" He waved a hand, "Forget I mentioned it." A bit restless, he picked up a stick and examined it. "'Sides, Clyde here says he'll bring it up with Na-"

"Shh! Someone could be listening!" 

He lowered the stick. "Yes, I suppose they could," he grinned. "But they'd have a trip covering their trail."

Clyde tapped his nose.

"That's right, buddy," Billy approved, "Foxhounds are great at following scents."

Bonnie tsked. "We don't use these ridiculous code names for fun, you know," she muttered.

"No, I suspect you use yours because you're embarrassed of your real name, Isa-"

She waved a finger under his nose, "Don't you even _dare!_"

"Come now, it's a beautiful name!"

"It's a horrible name," she scowled, folded her arms against her chest and looking away. "What fools my parents must have been…" and now she seemed to be talking to herself. "A ridiculous first name and an even worse middle name, what they were thinking…"

Billy perked. "Middle name? Now I've never heard that."

"Oh no, as if I'll tell you _that!_" she snapped moodily. 

"Aw come on, I won't tell anyone. Besides, it can't possibly be worse than _my _middle name," he shuddered.

"Somehow I doubt that," she said darkly, her eyes downcast.

He caught a glance at Clyde, who shrugged. 

"Well," he clapped his hands. "You two ought to leave. Any idea who has next watch?"

Clyde silently coughed into his fist, a suspicious action in itself. 

"Bob and Charlie Ford," Bonnie announced, standing and shaking the dust from her long gown; her outfits varied with her mood. Today she was feeling classy, but she suspected within another hour she'd slip into some bondage pants, a safety pinned top and buckled boots; she was beginning to feel irritated and reckless. Maybe she could escape to a bar later that day; she wasn't due for another shift until the next evening. 

"What?" Billy was in a state of shock. "_They're _keeping watch after me? What are the James thinking?" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Yes, lovely! Throw it to the dogs!" 

Bonnie motioned for Clyde. "Loved to stay, but we have business elsewhere."

Billy fell back against a tree and huffed in irritation. 

"Get in contact if anything goes wrong, or something fishy is stirring up."

"Yeah, yeah…"

She patted his head. "Good doggy. Now take care." Hooking arms, the couple vanished with a faint _POP_.

Billy crossed his leg over the other, and glared through the trees at the house. 

"Bloody Fords," he cursed.

~+~+~+~

Vala anxiously shoved her shoes on, grabbed her wand, and hurried from the flat. Running a hand through her hair, she streamed down the walkway and unto the road. When a particularly unpleasant thought entered her mind, she shook her head. Her hands trembled feverishly as she entered the woods, and in her haste, half-galloped down the well-known path. 

In her hysterics she failed to notice the foxhound traveling at a distance. 

~+~+~+~

Billy yawned and lied down. Vala had been inside the Malfoy Manor for several hours and he had late afternoon shift. The Fords weren't due to arrival until sundown. Pawing the ground a bit, he sighed. Drawing himself up, he looked over his shoulder. He stared at the enormous dog, even more bear like in his current condition. 

A series of barks and growls followed. _You've been on my tail all afternoon, what's the deal? _

The dog trotted alongside the foxhound and sat back on his haunches. _I intended on asking you a similar question._

It never was easy to fool another Animagus. And luckily, as dogs, they had a way of communication. 

__

That's my own business, Billy replied, watching the manor stubbornly. 

The dog tilted its head back and peered at the manor. _Did you smell that on her?_

Yes, Billy answered, staring at the house. 

__

Fear's thick in the air… I suspect she'll be distancing herself from Remus. And the black dog stood and turned his heels on the scene. 

__

I suspect we'll meet again, Billy predicted, _Sirius Black._

__

(A/N: Figures my favorite Beatles songs are written by George Harrison, bless his soul. You know, I'm taking a liking to Billy. Even if he is a little high-strung from time to time. Gives him character. +smirks+ Ah yes, I nearly forgot. Starting chapter 30 I am renaming the title of this fan fic because… let's face it, this one is horrible and lame and I only intended for it to a be substitute only I thought of a better one. I hope you like the new one, though I'll admit myself that anything would be an improvement to the last. Even--"Snuffing Pixie Sticks Sucks 'Cause Your Bogeys Get Sticky" or "Eating A Whole Bag of Starburst Might Sound Good At the Time, But the After Effects Are Not Fun" --to which Ren can testify.) 


	30. Incense and Peppermints

Incense and Peppermints

__

To divide this cockeyed world in two  
Throw your pride to one side, it's the least you can do  
Beatniks and politics, nothing is new  
A yardstick for lunatics, one point of view

CRACK

"Remus!" 

He looked up curiously, his fingers lightly gracing the corner of a novel. Fae smacked him. Years of lecturing taught him not to lash back, but to sit and take it. Years of discipline and patience taught him not to yell, but to speak calmly and slowly dig his way to the source of the problem. 

She smacked him again, for good measure, then began yelling. "Ooh, you're in a mess of trouble, boy!" She waved a furious finger under his nose. "Keeping secrets from Vala and bending the truth to protect her? Fool!" she shrieked. Her hands reached her hips, and she bent to meet his eyes. "You're lucky I don't turn you into the sneaky rat you are…" she stood back. "Maybe then you can be on levels with Peter, the scum eating bastard that he is."

"How did-"

"Ooh no! You're not getting a word in until I'm finished!" 

Remus sat back obediently and folded his arms. "Alright," he said calmly, "I'm listening."

She began to pace. "I did it to protect you--I never knew I'd be looking out for Vala as well!" 

"What are you say-"

Her pace knicked, she held up a finger. "I'm not finished."

He closed his mouth, grudgingly so. 

She fell back into rhythm. "I was so confused--disgusted even--I can only imagine what Vala's going through… what a state of shock." Her hands reached her face; she set pressure to her temples. "He kissed her… he actually put his tongue into her mouth!" she shuttered. Then--"Why didn't you tell her?" she demanded in a shriek, bringing her palm in contact with Remus' cheek all in one swift movement. "Ugh," she breathed, covering her face.

"Fae, I honestly don-"

"Stop," she said, "Right there." She leaned forward, stabilizing her hands on his shoulders. "You have a brother." 

"Yes, but-"

"A twin?"

"Yes…" he replied in a slow, considering manner. 

She sighed, and moved back. Wearily, she stepped away, her back to him. She screamed with frustration and kicked the kitchen counter. She bent against the counter, burying her face. "He's back, Remus… He's back," she muttered. 

~+~+~+~

"Milady, the Lord expects you in less than an hour."

Vala raised her head slightly from the deep bow she'd taken to write. "I'll be right with him." She lowered her head again. "I must finish this letter first… Be so good as to send for an owl, would you?"

"Of course," the servant assured, bowing out the door. 

Signing the letter, she sat back and sighed. It was embarrassing but it had to be said. She was ashamed that she couldn't bear to say them in person. _Oh the horror,_ she thought despairingly, closing her eyes and praying for strength. _I love him, _she thought, _just not like **that**._

There was a knock. A servant poked in. "Your owl, milady."

She rolled the parchment and sealed it with her wand. She rose and handed the parchment to him, "Tie this off and send the owl on its way," she commanded airily. "It's addressed to my Uncle Remus. Be sure he receives it, or be sure to find your sister's head strung up as decoration in the servant's quarters," she said coolly. It was cruel, she knew, but Malfoy's never took direct hits. After all, the worst and least protected target was the heart. 

His eyes grew wide and he exited rather hastily, but that was only assurance that the letter would reach Remus. 

~+~+~+~

"I'm sorry," Fae apologized sincerely. She sat across from Remus with a cup of tea. She rested her forehead on her palm, squeezing her eyes shut. "I've just been so frustrated lately…" She shook her head and looked up. "I know it's no excuse," she smiled slightly, "And I feel guilty in admitting it, but--it felt good at the time." She dropped her eyes a bit, careful not to meet his if he were angry but ready to meet them if he were sympathetic. 

He let a soft smile hint its way through. "Don't worry about it," he said, and the smile faded soon after. "I'd just like to know what's going on." 

"Well," she sighed, "It would seem your brother's tied in it all." She paused for Remus to make an addition to the statement, when he didn't, she continued, "And there's another girl… I'm not sure the connection with her--it's all very fuzzy."

"Is she prey or predator?"

She stared for a moment, curious of his choice of words. "Predator, I think, but I could be wrong." 

"Hmm…" Remus seemed to be connecting the dots in his head and Fae was too polite to interrupt.

At length, "There's no intention to hurt her… Not quite yet, but that can--" she stopped and closed her eyes. "They don't know," she said. "There's more than one," she mumbled, her eyebrows drawing closer. Remus leaned forward a bit. "There's two families involved. Yours and…" she opened her eyes. "Yours and Saxons." 

An owl flew through the open window and perched itself in front of Remus.

"And that," said Fae, "Would be a note from your lovely niece Vala."

~+~+~+~

"Another sundown… another dinner and another night staring at the ceiling. Oh, what life has become--bloody sleeves," Vala cursed, tying the gaps together along the sleeves. _The posh get the beautiful and complicated dress robes, _she thought spitefully, _I'd take tattered robes any day. _

She slid into a pair of dainty heels; by any other circumstances, they shouldn't have been able to hold her weight. However, by magic standards they were quite suitable for the evening. A quick charm was all she needed to put her long, thick hair in a sleek up-do, and makeup was barely a necessity. 

Gracing to the door, she passed one glance around the room, and left. A crisp sigh emitted her as she reached the stairs, and her chestnut eyes swept the floor. Guests had already arrived, and they waited patiently for her. Lightly gripping her skirt, she made the long journey down the winding staircase.

~+~+~+~

Raising his head, Billy let loose an enormous yawn. The day had proved to be uneventful, and his ears pricked with the arrival of the Ford Brothers. With an inward sigh, he drew himself up and looked up the length of Bob. At least, he assumed it was Bob. He could at least see a nose, which was more than he could ever see of Charlie in his Animagus form. But the smell, oh the smell, yes it was definitely Bob. 

"Sleeping on the job?" Charlie asked wittingly. 

Only a note changed in Billy's growl as he transformed. "No worse than what you've done," he barked, standing upright. 

"What a temper," Charlie tsked, "Sure you shouldn't have been a Chihuahua?" 

"Yes, he is rather uptight," Bob chirped.

Billy pressed closer, his face inches from Charlie's. "If you were an Animagi," he "You'd be a snake." He glanced at Bob. "And there's not animal low enough for you." He moved away, and began walking in the opposite direction. "But no need to worry," he said, "You haven't the intelligence between the two of you to become one."

Bob attempted to pounce forward, but Charlie held him back. 

"He'll get his own," he whispered, "Oh yes, he'll get his…" 

And all three laughed, for entirely different reasons, Bob's slightly more nervous than his brother's. 

~+~+~+~

"Fae, what is this?" A mixture of fright and shock was smudged across Remus' face as he dropped the letter.

Fae reached for it, scanned it, and shrugged. "What can you expect? He kissed her."

"But why?" his voice cracked, and he was staring somewhere twelve inches right of Fae's face. 

"What I gathered," she said slowly, collecting her thoughts. "Is that Romulus came here looking for something; I suspect the crystal ball he took. But there was a hitch in his plan, something he hadn't expected… something he never calculated in, and that was Vala. Why would he? To the Malfoys you're a minor factor; there'd be no reason to tell him of your relation with Vala."

"Yes, but," and now his eyes finally made contact with hers, "Why would he _kiss _her?"

"All I can gather is he thought you two had," and she paused for a better word, and failing, "an affair. But why wouldn't he?" she resumed hurriedly. "There's a girl alone in your house, and Merlin knows what she said to him… anything could be taken the wrong way. So," she said, perhaps only take fill the gap, her lips a perfect O for a brief moment. "What better way to say goodbye than to kiss her? He was only acting the part… only to learn he'd been cast as the wrong character." 

Remus nodded glumly, settling his face in his hands. "And Vala? Where is she now?"

"At Malfoy Manor," she said carefully. "But I don't know how long."

He raised his eyes higher than his fingertips. "Meaning?"

"I don't know," Fae mumbled. "I've been getting these god forsaken headaches **all** bloody night." She rubbed a temple. "And frankly, I'm sick of them." 

"Fae…?"

"Yes?"

"How did you know Romulus was here?"

"The crystal, Remus, the crystal."

He lowered his hands, confusion creeping across him. "Come again?"

She sighed exhaustingly. "I used a type of charm to connect our crystals. It was easier than spying, while being twice as profitable. You still had your privacy, but if anything were to happen, I'd know."

"And when did you do this?"

"Years ago… Vala was still at Hogwarts." 

"And it lasted all these years? That's quite advanced, even for a seventh year."

"Of course it didn't," she said impatiently, rubbing her eyes. "I've been reinforcing it over the years."

~+~+~+~

"Vala," greeted Saxon. "The Elixir of Life. How pleasant for you to join us."

She smiled softly, taking Saxon's hand as she stepped off the staircase. 

"Well, what say we move into the dining room?" Saxon asked pleasantly. There was general agreement.

Inwardly, Vala recoiled, but she kept a smile plastered to her lips. It's a shame it never reached her eyes anymore. She used to glow. Not anymore. Marriage did that to you, she supposed. Besides, nobody married for love anymore. Because love was a ridiculous game and you never won. Even if you got your man, you were probably broke, and then where were you? Hopelessly in love and just as miserable. 

__

I'm miserable too, her treacherous mind reminded. But the smile did not fade; it never did. Even if the glow did. 

__

(A/N: Firstly, to get it out of the way, the story is now called Essential Fairy Tales. I thought it fit well enough. Now for the more interesting parts… Make Remus evil? Never! I love him too much. Not to mention it'd be entirely out of character for him. In case you didn't get my clue, it's from American Pie by Don McLean and it basically meant Remus couldn't be in two places at once. So that meant there must be two Remuses, but that of course is just as ridiculous… Meaning, there had to be someone who **looked **like Remus… aka his twin brother Romulus. All through the story I've addressed Remus Lupin as Remus and his brother as Lupin, so I hope that clears things up. Oh, and in case you were a little confused--No, Remus is not in any way connected to Gale or Ares. That would be Romulus' line of work. Cheers!

Almost forgot--Happy Fourth of July! And if you're not American… Happy Friday!!!)


	31. Beautiful Oblivion

Beautiful Oblivion 

__

I would choke on the rines

But the lack thereof

Would leave me empty inside

I would swallow my doubt

Turn it inside out

Find nothin' but faith in nothing

"Oh that dress…" Romulus cooed with a grin. Bringing Gale towards him, he ran kisses along her neck. "You're so beautiful."

"Oh, don't be such a silver tongued devil," she said, playfully pushing him away. "We have work to do." 

"Yeah, I know," he replied, swiping a mix of umber and golden locks from his eyes. "But I'd rather not."

She stiffened. "Romulus," she whispered, bowing her head. "This is what we've been waiting for. Our chance." She looked back at him. "Don't you care anymore?" 

He sighed, turning his eyes away. "Grab your cloak," he said coldly. "We have a party to wreck."

A smile broke through. "Now that's the man I fell in love with." 

~+~+~+~

A snort and Charlie hit the beetle with dead on accuracy. "Galloping gargoyles," he complained, tossing his head back. "Some bloody posh folk and a candlelit dinner. Where's the _excitement _in this place?"

Bob looked up timidly. "Perhaps, it hasn't arrive yet?"

"Smart ass," he breathed, bringing his head forward to peer at the manor. He swung his head around. "Where's Romy and that lady of his?"

"Solitaire?" He automatically rubbed his hands together. "Got me," he checked his watch. "They shouldn't be far off." 

"That's a pretty lady."

Bob glanced at Charlie, who motioned towards a tall woman with thick, golden curls falling around her shoulders and wearing a black dress. Oh, but the dress… She didn't so much wear the dress as the dress wore her. She waltzed to the front door, a prominent beat in her step and a swing in her hips. 

"That's her," Bob announced, rubbing the flesh off his palms. "Gale Solitaire."

"A bit of a tramp," Charlie commented, spitting soon after. 

"Now, now… That's not at all polite. Why, you've only just met her," a voice rang from behind them. Slowly, they turned their heads skyward and met the copper eyes of Romulus Lupin. "Evening, gentlemen." He crouched down between them. "Enjoying the view?"

"Er… yes?" Bob tried.

"Good, good… But unfortunately," he cracked his knuckles. "I'll have to handicap your evening. I do hope you can forgive me… it is not at all for my pleasure, just simply for your… protection." And he smiled, the light striking his face in a certain way. 

He reached for his wand, and the world exploded for the Ford Brothers. 

~+~+~+~

"My dear," a man said, touching Vala's elbow. "Would you mind in passing the cheese, hmm?"

She stared, the wineglass halfway to her mouth. "Er… no." She set down her glass, lifted the platter, and handed it to him.

He began scraping the slices unto his plate. "You know," he chuckled, "One of my favorite quotes is about cheese."

"Is that so…"

"Yes, it's quite clever really." 

"Really," she said dryly, attempting to sound interested. She had to admit, the man had some life in him. Which was more than she could say for the rest of the guests. 

"It's," he sat back, his eyes glazing as he stared at the chandelier. "Quite interesting, really… An old mate of mine was nicking some bottles from his father's wine cooler… They were entire basements in those days, mind you. And I asked him, I said, 'Why are you doin' that?' and you know what he said?" He looked expectantly at Vala, a smirk crossing his face.

"No, I can't say that I do," she replied, raising the glass to her lips.

"He said, he said," and his eyes traveled back to the chandelier. "He said to me, and I'll swear I've never seen a more devious smile, he said, 'If the moon was made of cheese, wouldn't you like a slice?'" The old man let loose a ripple of laughter. A ripple, hell, it was the whole bloody river. 

Vala's eyes shot around. He was causing quite a scene. "Yes… er… that's very amusing, but if you'll be so kind--I forgot something in my dress chamber." Pushing her chair back, she excused herself from the table. 

Hurrying up the stairs, she missed Gale's grand entrance. 

~+~+~+~

__

CRACK

Grant looked disgruntled. "Fae, I've been waiting around for hours and--are you _smoking_?"

Purely by luck, Fae had been facing the opposite direction been Grant turned up. With a grimace, she'd swallowed the last half of the stale cigarette before he could see her face. "Uh… no," she croaked. "Remus was making tea." 

He looked from Fae's innocent façade to Remus standing by the teakettle. "What are you two up to?"

"Nothing," she lied, turning away and desperately searching the table. She pulled a flimsy book up from under a newspaper. "Here, why don't you do some crosswords in the living room?"

His eyes rolled to her suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing… Here, take this and go in there..." She stood up and began ushering him out and into the living room. 

"I don't wanna," he pouted like a five-year-old.

"Tell ya what," she negotiated. "If you stay out of the way like a good lad and I'll bring you some chocolate milk."

He gave her puppy dog eyes.

"Oh all right, with a sippy top." 

A simple grin cracked his face and he bounced into the living room. 

She rolled her eyes and turned to Remus. "Got milk?"

~+~+~+~

__

Where is it, oh Merlin where is it?

Vala was opening desk drawers and pushing clutter aside in a frenzy. She stood erect, her eyes searching the desktop and then sweeping to the bed. _Okay, I had it on me last Tuesday. I--that's it!_

She grabbed a green cloak and thrust her hand into a concealed inner pocket. She retrieved a corked bottle; it was old and chipped. Small as it was, it was important. Bundling the gown up to her thigh, she slid the bottle into a black laced garter with sky blue trimming. 

Letting the gown drop back into place, she left the room and rushed down the staircase. Dinner was over, and guests were socializing in hushed whispers. Her brow furrowed. "Where's Saxon?"

A few guests looked up, but more fell extraordinarily interested in their wineglasses. They knew the Malfoy woman had her issues. She was a silent rose, as beautiful too, but say the wrong thing at the wrong time and that woman bit. Just like a snake. Just like the other Malfoys. 

"Left with a woman," the old man said. "That Gale woman, I believe. Yes," he pointed to the front door. "Right out there." 

She swung her head to the door, and narrowed her eyes. "Is that so…" And fuming, she strode for the door, pushing the door servant back a few feet on her way out. 

~+~+~+~

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Remus asked quietly. 

"No," Fae said definitely. "If we knew when or where, maybe, but we don't."

"But you're a Seer. Is the Inner Eye malfunctioning?"

She regarded him coldly. "The Inner Eye, as you so kindly put it, can see the future. But what is the future? The future can change." She leaned forward, clipping every syllable with precision. "I see films of the past and present, but the future is only a snippet; A picture in my mind that can be torn with the simplest detail. I cannot predict the future because the future is ever changing. This ambush, as I've chosen to call it, could be launched at five… but if something goes wrong, even the smallest hitch, it could change to five fifteen."

"But that's only fifteen minutes," he tried to reason.

She moved back. "Every minute counts, love, every _second _makes a difference." 

"Oh, hell yes! '50 percent' and four letters--that's 'half' my dear! Which means 'above the ____ plain' begins with an F and is seven letters long…"

Remus and Fae exchanged glances then turned to stare at the doorway leading to the living room. "That would be 'fruited,' my love," Fae shouted. "'Above the _fruited_ plain' not--"

"Blasted!" They heard Grant kicking the floor with irritation then the feathery toss of a book. "I hate crosswords!" he declared loudly. Then as an afterthought, "More milk chocolate please!"

~+~+~+~

"Saxon?" Vala called hotly. "Where are you?" She stepped down from the platform, glaring into the darkness. She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Saxon! Get over here right this instant!" Her heels clicked on the stones. She folded her arms and stared icily around the yard. 

And a figure escaped from the darkness. "Vala, Vala! Come quickly!"

Vala took a step back. "Remus?" her hands reached her collarbone. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Fae!" he exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and tugging her forward. "They've got Fae! We need to hurry!"

"Wait, who has her?" She pulled back on her wrist. "Who has Fae, Remus?"

He looked at her pleadingly. "Please, I'll explain on the way. We haven't got much time, Vala, we must hurry." 

She hesitated for a moment, and stole a glance at the manor. "I… Oh alright, let's go."

~+~+~+~

"Fine," Fae broke. "I'll see what I can…" She bowed her head and concentrated. 

Minutes turned into years, and Remus wrapped a nervous finger around a frayed end of his robes. 

Finally looking up, horror was spelt across her face. "They've got her," she managed. "The ambush has been launched." 

__

(A/N: Sorry this update wasn't as quick as the last few--I spent the Fourth of July holiday at a friend's house. Heh. My first year in five that I've seen fireworks; it really is an amazing experience, I must admit.)


	32. Stuck in a Moment

__

(A/N: So Sorry! Go back to chapter 31 and reread it if you already haven't. I accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter last night.)

Stuck in a Moment

__

I'm not afraid  
Of anything in this world  
There's nothing you can throw at me  
That I haven't already heard

"Hurry, this way!"

"Remus," Vala said slightly impatiently. "Where have they got her? And who are they?"

He shook his head and muttered, "No time, no time… We must hurry." 

She sighed, but continued to follow. She worried for Remus. He'd been acting odd, and she vaguely wondered if he were losing his mind. _No, _she shook her head. She refused to accept that Remus, her father and brother, was losing his mind. _He's survived so much, _she reminded herself, _He's just going through some rough spots, that's all. His robes seems awful crisp tonight, odd that. Must be a trick of the light. _

"Here," he stopped her. "Wait right here, and be quiet. Shhh…" He held a finger to his lips. 

"Remus I--"

"Shh!" And he disappeared behind a large bush. 

"Hmph." She folded her arms, and glanced around. They were on the skirts of the land. 

There was a low growl, and Vala nearly jumped. 

"Remus? Are you all right?" Her eyes darted to the sky. "It's not quite the full moon..." she muttered, and called out again, "Remus?" She edged closer and heard the slashing of clothes and soon a man's terrified hollers. 

She poked her head around the bush, and her eyes widened. Remus was on the ground, a dog tearing at his robes. "Remus!" She kicked the foxhound away, and Remus reached for his wand. A deadly glint in his eye, he pointed the wand at Vala. Before she could react, a large black dog bounded against her. She fell backward into a mud puddle, and the curse overshot her by five feet. The dog, pinning her to the muck, appeared to smirk. 

The foxhound barked hurriedly, and the shaggy dog looked up. 

She tried to twist her neck to see what was happening, pressing her own head further into the mud. 

The dog licked Vala's cheek and winked. In one swift movement it leapt from her and disappeared into the night, the foxhound following at its heels. 

Setting her elbows in the mud, she pushed herself up. Remus was gone and Saxon stood over her. 

"You're lucky I got here when I did," he said, "That dog was eyeing your jugular." 

~+~+~+~

Swiftly running through the gardens and under the pointed gates of Malfoy Manor, Gale turned right and swerved left. Romulus was no where to be seen. Her chest was heaving and her breath wasn't reaching her lungs. She struggled forward, and her surroundings whirled in a blurred pool. 

Bundling her dress at the knee, she tore the garter around her thigh. She juggled the inhaler, but it slipped from her and clattered unto the pavement. Wheezing, she dropped to her knees, and tripping over her gown, struggled to reach it.

Perspiration beading her forehead and tears streaming her cheeks, she held out a shaking hand and collapsed. 

~+~+~+~

"What happened out there?" Jesse demanded.

"I… I don't know!" Bob sputtered, wringing his hands. 

"What do you mean you don't know?" came Frank's deeper, calming voice. 

"He--He just showed up!" he squeaked. 

"Showed up? Showed up?" Jesse repeated, fuming. 

"Jesse, take a seat," Frank offered, setting his brother aside. 

Jesse pressed his palms against the table, bowing his head and inhaling long, steady breaths. He set plans and rules for a reason, and wasn't always as keen when they were disobeyed. Yes, he was always grateful when everyone came out of it alive, but he'd be all the more satisfied if the plan had gone off without a hitch. 

Frank surveyed his brother for a moment then turned his attention back to Bob. Charlie was sitting a few feet back, chewing tobacco and quietly spitting in a can. "Now," he said calmly, "Tell us what happened."

Bob glanced around nervously, twisting his hands in his lap. His eyes darted to Jesse and he began slowly, "We… we were sitting there, and, and he jinxed us." He looked up hopefully. With luck Frank would protect him when Jesse attacked. Jesse had never actually jinxed him before, but even small-minded Bob knew there was a first for everything. 

"Who jinxed you?"

"That, that Lupin guy," he mumbled, then his face screwed up in disgust as he added, "The werewolf." 

Jesse's rhythmic breathing continued, but Frank kept his composer. Gently, he arched an eyebrow. "And you didn't hear him?"

"He's a werewolf!" Bob exclaimed, his voice raising an octave, and expecting his statement to further into a reason. 

Jesse breathed a laugh; Frank remained poker faced. "I see… and do you know how the girl managed to escape?"

"No," he mumbled, dropping his eyes and shuffling his feet.

"Her husband showed up," he said. "You may go--Don't let it happen again." 

Bob didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door before Frank finished. Charlie lingered for a moment, eyeing Jesse and then Frank. He stopped at the door. "Who's uh, who's taking over your shifts tonight?"

"That is not of your concern," Frank replied sternly.

"Ah. Well… We'll be ready for our shifts tomorrow--when are they again?"

"You're not scheduled tomorrow. You're on suspension until further notice," Jesse answered, still stationed at the table. 

"Right." He knocked on the frame. "Well, we'll keep in touch, eh?" 

After the door clicked, Frank waited thirty whole seconds. "You shouldn't have done that," he said. "They'll only get themselves into more trouble." 

"All the more reason to sack them."

"Jesse, we don't want these people as our enemies."

He whipped around. "And _that's_ our reason for employing them?"

Frank sighed and sank into the vacated chair. "Not now, Jesse."

"What, you think it was coincidence that Lupin showed up during the Ford's shift?"

"No more than I think it coincidence that the Kid showed up." 

Jesse scowled, dropping his eyes.

"I thought we agreed on this," Frank said, looking at his brother. "Neither of us trust the Fords… We both know that they're associating with the enemy--"

"They _are _the enemy."

"Yes," Frank continued without skipping a beat, "But the Fords are our weakest point and we know where their mates will take aim. You knew something would happen tonight-- you didn't double shift for Bonnie and Clyde or Billy, but you did for the Fords--why?"

"Because I knew they'd try something, the gits."

"See?" He straddled the chair. "The enemy's using them and they're just moronic enough to give in. Not everyone's that stupid, and I have no problem with that." He threw his hands up. "If they want to be the money-hungry, back-stabbing goons of the game let them be--but I won't allow you to be pulled in by their antics." He stood up, and brushed a hand against the back of his brother's head. "Just take it down a notch, okay? You're starting to remind me of Billy." 

Slowly, Jesse looked up, a grin fixed to his face. "You're going to regret that," he predicted, pounding forward and catching Frank around the neck, curving his brother into a headlock. 

~+~+~+~

Vala lay in her bed that night, recounting the events of the evening. Remus had disappeared, and that hadn't seemed right. In fact, Remus appearing didn't quite fit either. But what had really confused was Saxon's behavior. 

After he'd shooed the dog away, he'd carefully led her up the manor doors. Once inside, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs so she wouldn't trip and so there wasn't a mess for the house elves. His fine, and even more expensive, dress robes were ruined, but it didn't seem to phase him at all. Upon ushering her into the grand bathroom, he fixed her a bath and set out a clean nightgown. He'd left her before she began to undress and only poked his head in fifteen minutes later to say he was taking a guest bedroom for the night. 

Her hand crept to his side of the bed. _It's been ages, _she thought, _since I've seen him like this. _She hugged herself and rolled unto her side, away from the window and towards the gloomy darkness. She missed that side of him, but wasn't sure how to react to it.

~+~+~+~

Romulus sighed, cradling Gale in his arms. She was lucky, truly lucky that he made a round back. He stared out the window, watching the clouds drift across the midnight sky. The moon, reaching its whole, glowing more brilliantly than he could ever remember. He hated it. His eyes shifted to Gale. He sighed, gently combing a hand through her blond tangles. 

"What are we going to do?" he asked in a hush.

The plan, so well devised and so long plotted, was destroyed with the arrival of a dog. And not even a decent dog with bulging muscles and paws of thunder, but a weak, beagle-like dog. It's bark worse than it's bite, or so he thought. His ankles and shins bore the scratches and bruises of a tough fight; he was just embarrassed to admit his opponent barely stood above his knee. 

Even so, the plan was destroyed, and he still had to face Ares. He shuttered to think his reaction, but the man was sure to know before dawn the next day… and his appointment was in the late afternoon. 

He set his jaw. Twice had she made a fool of him, once at Remus' and once at the Manor. Failure did not come easy to Romulus, and he wouldn't allow the twig-like girl to get away again. She may have won the battle, but he _always _won the war.

"Don't you worry," he whispered. "I'll take care of everything." And in a caring gesture, he bent low and kissed her forehead. 

~+~+~+~

"Remus," Fae said so quietly that he thought he was dreaming. "Remus, wake up." 

Slowly, his lids drew back. He blinked once and then again. "What's going on?" he asked, slightly confused and rubbing his head one hand while the other lay plastered to the table. 

She smiled, shaking her head a bit. "You fell asleep," she answered. She touched his hand and the smile was broader. More brilliant and bright. "Vala escaped. She's safe now."

"But I thought--how?" he sputtered, confusion springing to his eyes. 

"Everything's okay now," she said, pulling herself to her feet. "A pesky foxhound bit the heels of a misled twin while another pushed her from the path of an oncoming curse."

"You saw all that?"

"Yeah," she said casually, "But hey--you should off to bed." She glanced at her watch while stifling a yawn. "It's we-e-ell past midni-i-i-ght…" she attempted during mid-yawn. 

Soon after, the yawn contaminated Remus. 

"Come on," she said sheepishly, tugging on his arm. "Let's get you to bed." 

He nodded exhaustingly, "All right, but I expect a full report tomorrow." 

"Yeah, yeah… off you go."

Remus wandered towards his room but stopped at the living room. He peered in and leaned against the archway. "You should stay," he said.

"Hmm?"

"It's late, don't bother with travel--stay the night." 

"Um… alright." She moved towards the doorway and looked in. "Ah."

Grant lay in the corner of the couch, curled up in a tight ball. 

"Fae?"

"Yes?"

"Who else was in your vision?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently, walking under the arch and towards Grant. 

"I mean, was Sirius there," he defined.

Grabbing a wool blanket, she paused. Catching herself, she pulled the blanket across Grant and carefully tucked him in. "Yes," she answered stiffly. "He was there."

"Ah," he replied wisely, "I thought so."

"Really," she began, sitting down next to Grant and tugging the sheet over her a bit. "And why's that?"

"Because it's uncharacteristic of Sirius Black not to get his nose into trouble, so to speak," he smiled, propelling from the wall and leaving for his room.

"Hmm… Remus?"

He turned halfway. "Yes?" 

She settled herself against Grant's rump, her arms crossed under her chin. "Go talk to Vala tomorrow." It wasn't a request, but a direct command.

His smile was sad, the worry lines more apparent and the gray hairs more distinct. He turned away slowly and padded his way to his room. 

"Hmm…" A flick of her wand and the lights were out. She shifted her position, and lay against her fiancé. "Grant, you still awake?" she asked quietly.

"Nope."

"Didn't think so… Well, goodnight then."

"'Night."


	33. Desperately Wanting

Desperately Wanting

__

Kick them right in the face   
Make them wish they weren't born   
And if they bring up your name   
Well they'll say you won the war.  
Baby burst in the world   
Never given a chance   
Then they ask what went wrong   
When you never had it right   


"Morning, dear."

Vala stirred. Her eyes fluttered, and beheld the image of Saxon. Not just Saxon, but Saxon carrying a large wooden plank. She pulled herself upright and began rubbing her eyes. 

"After your fright last night I thought a breakfast in bed was in order." A smile slipped through as he lowered the tray over her lap. 

She rubbed one eye with the palm of her hand and stared at the meal with the other. The bread was toasted golden, the eggs a charming yellow and the bacon a crisp brown; it still sizzled lightly. "You made this?" she asked, sleep disappearing like a milk shake given to a hungry child. 

"Oh yes," he answered brightly. The light faltered. "Well, the toast anyhow… I attempted eggs, but after five tries and six ruined pans Goin took over."

"Five tries and six ruined pans?" she asked, an eyebrow raising.

"Apparently you can't use ammonia to clean burnt eggs off a Teflon pan…"

"Why would you use ammonia?" she asked slowly. 

"It was in the cupboard?" he guessed. 

"Right… Um, it looks very delicious."

"Thanks," he replied with a smile.

She lifted the fork with a hesitant hand, and skewered some eggs. Raising it to her lips, she sniffed, then took the plunge. "Mmm," she nodded approvingly. "Very good."

He smiled sheepishly, and after a few more bites his brow began to wrinkle.

"What's up?" she asked curiously, holding a hand up to cover her mouth.

"Did _you _know you can't put a grease fire out with water?"

~+~+~+~

Back at Remus', Grant was slowly drawing around to consciousness. He kicked. 

"Ow!" Fae answered sharply.

He glanced around, then down at his feet. "Oh… Sorry, love."

She stared at him groggily; Fae had never been much of a morning person. Grumbling, she buried her head in the sheets.

"Uh… Fae? Hate to bother you, but I can't get up with you lying on my legs." 

She considered it for one split, tired moment. "Tough," she decided, burying herself deeper. She reconsidered. "Actually…" she moved to let Grant out, then spread across the couch on her stomach. "I could do with a back rub." 

"Aww… but I'm hungry, mommy," he pouted.

She looked up at him, her eyes large and pleading. "Please? I'll make you pancakes."

"Chips or nothing," he negotiated.

"Deal."

He climbed onto the couch and straddled himself on her butt; it was never the most charming position, but it was certainly the most effective. He began to work on her shoulders. 

"Mmm… Oooh, yeah, right there," she mumbled pleasantly, closing her eyes.

"Fae?"

Her eyebrows drew. "Why does everyone expect me to know everything," she grumbled, in spite of herself. 

"Er… You're a Seer?" 

"Really." She didn't seem impressed. 

"Yes, and you're also demanding."

She twisted her torso around. "What's that have to do with anything?"

Grant pulled his hands back. Fae was a character of many resources and when she was provoked, she fought. Nails, teeth, and wand… You keep your distance and you might have a chance. "Well… I sure didn't tell Remus to go to Vala."

She regarded him for a moment then turned back in place. Grant lowered his hands to her shoulders. "Yes, and?"

"I was going to ask you why he had to talk to her. You are, after all, the one who demanded he did."

"Do you really want to know?" 

He took a minute to think; it was a life or death decision and he didn't want to choose wrongly. She _sounded _pleasant enough. But then, sometimes that was more dangerous. Oh, Fae was a tricky one. 

At length, she sighed. "How about I just tell you." 

"Okay." That seemed safe enough; it wasn't an eager demand or a reluctant agreement. 

"First, Remus has an identical twin brother…" and she told him the entire story, occasionally pausing to remind him to keep massaging. 

"He tried to kill her?" he said, aghast.

"That's what I gathered, but I wasn't about to tell Remus that. It _is_ his brother…"

"So? He tried to kill Vala!"

"Yes, but there's a certain amount of pride between siblings. Even ones like Romulus and Remus." 

"But he tried to kill her!" he replied, thrice and counting. 

Fae sighed; sometimes there was no getting through to Grant. With some effort, she turned under him. "Let's pretend for one moment that you have a brother," she said. 

"What's his name?"

"I don't know, he's make believe!"

"Well, if I'm to have a brother, he ought to have name," he said stubbornly. "He can't go through life nameless." 

"You're impossible--okay, fine… His name is Gene."

"Gene? What kind of name is that?"

"How should I know? Your parents named him," she replied, her maturity level lowering to his. 

"How about Havelock?" he suggested, quite seriously.

"Havelock? What is _that?_" she laughed.

His eyes, a lively olive, dipped a shade. "I rather hoped our first born son would be named Havelock," he replied quietly, looking hurt. 

She was taken aback; kids hadn't been on her agenda. Figures, she was the Seer, but Grant was the only one considering the future. Her actions quickly rose to her mind, and she felt a pang of guilt. "Ooh… I'm sorry," she said sincerely, touching his arm. "It's a lovely name."

His arms, which had been loosely folded at his abdomen, unbent and fell to his thighs. He brightened. "So you like it?"

"Yes," she pulled one of his hands into hers. "I love it."

He set his other hand on top of hers. 

A reflective moment spent gazing into each other's eyes came and went. 

Eventually, he patted her hands and said, "Where were we?"

Her features were blank. "I forget," she admitted at length.

"Oh well, you were probably right." he replied, setting his hands down on either side of her and straightening out his legs. Carefully, he lowered himself and rest his head on her chest. Instinctively, she placed a hand on the side of his head, smoothing back his hair and kissing his forehead. "You're always right," he whispered, closing his eyes.

"Not always."

"Always… but I don't mind. I never mind."

~+~+~+~

"Is Vala in?"

The door-servant surveyed Remus for a moment. "You're her uncle?"

Remus wasn't about to argue. "Yes, I need to speak with her." 

"Come right in, sssir."

"Thanks." He stepped under the doorway, and let his eyes adjust from the sunny outdoors to the shadowy hallway. 

"Uncle Remus! How pleasant for you to visit us!" 

Remus directed his eyes to the source, but sunspots still played across his vision. He didn't have to see clearly to recognize the voice. In fact, he might not have believed his eyes. "Saxon," he greeted. "I daresay it's been awhile."

"Yes," he said pleasantly. "And how have you been carrying on?"

"Well, thank you. And Vala?" 

"She's been well…" he stepped closer, his features attempting fellowship, but failing. "She was attacked by a dog late last night--Lucky, I was there to safe the poor dear. I daresay he might have gone for the throat if I hadn't shown up in time."

"How very… convenient." Remus was a considerate enough man. He respected half-breeds and understood werewolves. He wasn't quick to snub or disregard. But he simply did not trust Saxon. Regardless, he'd kept Vala safe for thirteen years, and that was enough to keep him at bay. "Speaking of which, may I have a word with her? I have a few items on my mind." The spots were decreasing. 

"Is that so… Well," he stole a glance at the staircase. "I was just with her, and I'm, not sure if she's up to it. I hate to turn you away, but with Vala's best intentions at--"

"Saxon?"

Both turned to the staircase, Saxon much quicker than his opponent. 

"Vala!" he strode to the railing. "Are you sure you should be up?"

"I…" she blinked. "Remus? What are you doing here?"

He stepped to the edge of the stairs. "It's time we talked."

~+~+~+~

"We won't be disturbed in here," Vala said, closing the doors to the drawing room. "The house elves are only in here in the early hours of the morning. Holding her hands at the base of her ribcage, she turned to face him. She looked at him expectantly. 

"Maybe you should sit down," he offered, wringing his hands slightly. 

She could feel the nerves flowing from him. Emotionless, she strode to the window. Too many things had happened in too little of time. She didn't know how to respond to Saxon's turned around attitude or Remus' spin around actions. Had he tried to kill her? Surely not. _If so, let him take me, _she thought, closing her eyes painfully. _I did it for you, don't make me regret it. _

"He's back," he said.

She opened her eyes, but still found it too hard to face him. Silently, she watched the gardeners weed the flowerbeds and spray the grounds. When Remus didn't emphasize, she bit. "Who's back?"

He stepped forward, not too much closer, but enough to be noted. "I don't know how to tell you this…" he began, struggling slightly over his words.

She spun on her heels, and threw her arms back to the window-ledge. She leaned back. "Say it then," she said. "I'm not a child anymore. You don't have to protect me."

He took a step back. "Fae told me I-"

"What has she got to do with this?" she snapped, pushing herself from the windowsill and moving in. 

"Do you remember when I kissed you?"

Her eyes widened and she dropped back. She bent her neck and shielded her eyes as she turned away. Her back facing him and her arms crossed tightly across her fragile chest, a huff crawled up her as a deep blush spread across her cheeks. 

"That wasn't me, Vala. I never kissed you." He bowed his head in embarrassment. "It was Romulus. He's been posing as me."

Slowly, she swiveled to look at him, her arms lowering to her sides and her eyes squinting. Her back arched forward a bit. "Romulus?" she repeated weakly.

"Yes, my brother."

"I know who he is…" 

Their eyes locked.

"Oh, Remus," she cried, falling forward and catching him in a hug. "I'm sorry. Oh Merlin am I sorry," she quivered, crying into his shoulder. "I knew it wasn't you. I just knew it wasn't… I'm so sorry." 

Remus held her, patting her comfortingly. In general, Remus wasn't very good with emotions. He could never handle other's strong emotions or even express his own. But comforting Vala came naturally… A part of it was awkward, a part that seemed like an older sibling, but that was the same part that made it so easy to deal with it. He'd never felt like that before--where everything and nothing was in his reach. 

"Vala…"

"Yes?" she sniffled, calming again.

"Saxon mentioned a dog…"

"Yes, a big black one."

"He said it tried to kill you," he continued, slowly beating around the bush. 

"It didn't," she replied, pulling back. "It saved my life."

"Really?" He looked shocked, though he wasn't in the least. 

"Yes," she sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "Romulus aimed a curse at me, but the dog pushed me out of the way. I got pretty dirty, but there's not a scratch on me."

"So it saved your life," he summed up.

"Yes, Saxon was wrong about the dog, but I do believe he saved my life as well."

"Oh?" he kept his thoughts to himself. 

"Yeah, the dogs scared Romulus, but I think he would have finished the job off had Saxon not arrived." 

~+~+~+~

Romulus only hesitated for a moment. He breathed deeply and turned the doorknob. "Ares," he greeted confidently. 

But Ares did not look up immediately. He sat with his fingers steepled and his head bent forward. Slowly, his eyes titled upward. "Take a seat."

Against his better judgement, he did. 

He straightened the parchment on his desk. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Romulus received a flashback of his past; one involving a broken lamp and his mother standing sternly over him with a frown and hands placed on her hips. He blinked. "I can do better?"

"I should hope so."

"It was the dog--I wasn't prepared for a dog," he explained. 

"And why is that?"

"Because you didn't tell me about a dog."

Ares looked taken aback. 

The tension was now raising to unbelievable heights. 

Romulus stood. "I will take care of the girl, you take care of my expenses. Now if you don't mind, I have more pressing matters at hand." And bowed out the door. 

"Yes," Ares said coolly, seemingly to himself. "I can see your hands are quite dirty--and getting dirtier by the day." 

__

(A/N: Sorry for the hold-up… Ren's birthday was the 8th, and I spent the night over at her house… Then I spent all last night writing this chapter and all tonight writing the next chapter. I would have posted this one yesterday, but I like to stay a chapter ahead in case I need to change anything.)


	34. People Like You

People Like You

__

In a dream I had you were standin all alone with a dyin' world below  
And a microphone singin' hallelujah I finally broke their mold

Whatever its gonna take good luck, keep it real where (are) the boys in Live?  
They're pissin' in the mainstream open up your cage focus  
All your rage the world needs people like you

"You're going down, mother fu-"

"Billy!" Jesse cut in.

Frank lowered the basketball, but while Jesse was preoccupied attempted a shot. 

Jesse, quick on the reflexes, smacked the ball away from the hoop.

"And who said white men can't jump!" Frank congratulated, high-fiving his brother. 

"You knew, didn't you," Billy said, tossing a stem of wheat aside. Merlin knows where he found it. 

"Knew what?" Jesse asked casually, retrieving the ball and passing it to Frank. 

"That Remus had a brother."

"Of course we did," answered Frank, taking a shot. "We don't go into things completely blind-folded, you know." 

"Yes, I knew," replied Billy, catching the ball as it fell from the hoop. "I just thought you'd have the courtesy to tell me all the details." He passed the ball to Jesse, who turned to his side for a potential shot. 

"What, and ruin all the fun?" he responded, the ball falling in the basket after a nerve-racking spin around the hoop. 

Billy let the ball bounce to him. "I want full watch," he said, passing the ball with more force than necessary to Frank. 

His shoulders caved forward a bit. "Puh," he said, gaining his composure back. "What makes you think you should have full watch?" 

"Because I have his scent now, and I'm the only one who can tell them apart."

"Big deal," replied Frank, bouncing the ball to Jesse. "Bonnie and Clyde are just as prepared."

"I notice you didn't mention the Fords," retorted Billy.

"No, I didn't--They're on suspension."

"I want full watch," he repeated, squaring his shoulders.

"Tough," said Jesse, shooting. "Bonnie and Clyde are just as qualified and responsible--if not, more so." 

Billy narrowed his eyes. "Then put them on another assignment." 

"Tell me," said Frank. "Is there an I in team?"

"No," Billy sighed, drooping his shoulders.

"That's what I thought. Now get out of here." 

Frank shot and missed; Jesse caught the rebound. They watched Billy's disappearing figure.

"Gotta give him points for effort," Jesse said.

"Yeah, and points for stubbornness," Frank agreed.

"You realize he'll double shift himself." 

"And pass out from exhaustion."

"Happens every time," sighed Jesse.

"It's like they always say, you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"Or a stubborn one, for that matter." 

~+~+~+~

"Why'd you bring me here?" Vala asked, her eyes sweeping the dim café over the rim of her expresso mug. 

"To talk about life," Fae answered, folding her hands. 

"Life?" she raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes, life."

"What about it?"

Fae reached a hand into her tote bag. "Let's play a game," she said, seemingly at random, pulling out a deck of cards. 

"Okay," Vala said slowly, setting down her mug. "What game?"

"It's quite simple," she said. "It's a collection of possibilities and risks… chances, and most of all--fate. I call it Life." 

Vala stared. At length, "How do you play?"

"That's the fun part--how many cards do you want?"

"Er… six."

"Good number. Six senses." She gave Vala her requested amount, set one by her elbow on the table and held two up. She set the remainder of the stack in the middle of the table. "Now the beauty of this game is there are no rules, and if anyone ever bonds you to any, rebel." 

"Um… okay?" Vala scratched the side of her head. 

"Don't worry," she winked. "The freedom comes quite easily."

"Uh, okay… Can I look at my cards?"

"I don't know, can you?"

"Right…" Vala trailed, picking up her cards. She frowned and tilted her fan forward. "What kind of cards are these?" The only one she recognized, the three of hearts, seemed placed in the stack by mistake rather than the other five. One had two closed eyes, a second was a flame, a third was an angel, the fourth was a dagger, and the fifth was a bold number three. 

Fae whistled. "Quite a hand you've got there."

"What do they mean?" Vala asked shakily.

"Hmm… Let's start with the familiar." She pulled the three of hearts from Vala's hand. "This one signifies a love triangle, but that's the distant future, so let's put it back in the deck." She set the card face down on top of the stack. 

Vala's brow wrinkled. "A love triangle? As in an or-"

"No, no," Fae shook her head. "Nothing like that."

"Okay," she dropped her eyes. "And this?" she inquired, pointing to the dagger.

"You're playing with too many rules," she said, snatching the card from her. 

"But--what?" 

Fae shoved the card in a pocket. 

"Um, okay then… er…"

"This is your guardian," Fae explained, tapping the angel. "You don't have to worry about him much--Just know he's there." 

"Er… okay." 

"Damn, you're blind," she cursed, grabbing the card with the eyes on it. She pocketed it as well. Then she laughed, pointing at the flame. "I should've known you'd create that one!"

__

Create--what? "Fae," she said, shaking her head. "What are you _talking _about? What is this game?" she asked, dropping the cards. 

"Oh, wow…" she picked up the card with the bold three, and held it between her index and pointer. "It's no wonder that you created _this _one." 

Vala sat back. "Your mind-fuck games are driving me mad."

"Sick of threes?" 

Despite herself, she bent her head to one side. 

She rotated the card, and when it faced Vala again it was a nine. "Three times three is nine, my love. Don't like nines?" Slowly, it turned again. "A nine upside down is just a six. However," the card flipped again. "Half of six is a three." And the bold three was returned. 

She set the card down on the table, and pushed it towards Vala.

"You make your own rules and standards, your own breaks and luck, but if you're not careful… you end up back where you started." 

Vala picked up the card and stared at it. "I see."

"Said the blind woman." 

Lifting the mouth of her bag to the tableside, she pushed the cards into it, and strung it on her arm. "Cheers," she said, brushing against Vala and parting. 

Vala watched her go, flipping the card between her fingers. 

~+~+~+~

"He's out there, isn't he?" 

Clyde nodded sadly, scratching pictures in the dirt with a stick. 

"What, he doesn't trust us either?" Bonnie huffed. 

Clyde shrugged.

"I mean, sure, he was probably right about the Fords…" she leaned back on her palms, "But us? He has to trust us. Christ, he's so… anal-retentive. And bloody paranoid at that." She gazed over at the Manor. 

Clyde glanced up, briefing regarding his fiancée and shaking his head. 

"Where does he get off accusing _us _of anything?" 

Clyde patted his coat pocket and pulled out a small notepad. Sucking the end of the quill for a moment, he began writing a message. He handed it to Bonnie

"What's this?" She shifted her weight to her other hand. "'I like Billy.' Oh, well isn't that pleasant," she said sarcastically, bouncing the notepad once and dropping it. "You like him. As much as I'd like to tell you otherwise, characters are not dependant on your opinion, babe."

He bent his head, and picked up his stick again. 

"What's that you're drawing?"

A small smirk played on his lips as he labeled his drawing. A stick figure in a top hat and a boxy three-piece suit stood alongside another stick figure with enormous-

"My breasts aren't that big!" she cried, smacking his arm.

~+~+~+~

Vala didn't have to search long to find what she was looking for. And she found it in the back of her bottom dresser drawer. Holding the old, chipped bottle up to the light, she pondered over several things. True, many concerned the purpose of the potion and whether it had an expiration date, but others wondered whose drink she'd pour it in. In her pocket, the card flipped to a six. 

And lying there on the bed, she heard the front door open and close. Sitting up, she slipped the bottle into a hip pocket. She cracked the door an inch, but only saw Saxon. He was holding a door open for the visitor and soon disappeared behind the same door. Curiosity sweeping her, she opened the door enough to let her pass through, and tiptoed down the stairs. 

Sitting on the edge of a step, she strained to listen. 

"She's learned her lesson!" she heard Saxon defend. 

Luckily, it sounded like an argument and they weren't too concerned with keeping their voices down. 

"She's been trouble since the day you found her!"

She recognized the second voice as Ares Malfoy, and immediately shook her head sympathetically. She pitied anyone Ares was giving a piece of mind to--let alone someone who seemed to have annoyed him. 

"I know, but things have changed…"

"Despicable. You've let a woman seduce and manipulate your mind." 

"No, I am the man. She is mine to control." 

"When a toy is broken, you throw it out. If you knew what was wise for you, you'd do likewise." 

Vala stared unseeingly at the steps in front of her. Realization dawned and reality kicked with the scarping of chairs. She whipped around to creep back to her room. With the flailing of cloaks, a card fell to the ground. She squinted at the faded blue. Picking it up, she turned it to see two chocolate eyes staring at her. 

__

(A/N: Ooh, just you wait and see what I have in mind for upcoming chapters! +wink+)


	35. Saints and Sailors

Saints and Sailors

__

This is where I say I've had enough  
And no one should ever feel the way that I feel now.  
A walking open wound,  
A trophy display of bruises  
And I don't believe that I'm getting any better.

"Suspension from duty?" Charlie mused, scratching his chin.

"I reckon we're the first," Bob commented, kicking a can. "Ahs well, not as if we liked watching and waiting. We got into it for fightin'!" She thrashed his hands forward in a weak attempt to mirror a boxing match. 

"Won't be much punchin', Bob. I'm lookin' for the cursin'."

Bob looked at him warily. "You curse enough as it is."

Charlie smacked his brother upside the head. "I'm talkin' about jinxes!" 

"Oh."

Charlie rubbed his chin again. "Reckon we get payback."

Bob smacked his hands together, and immediately began rubbing them. "Yeah, that Kid's askin' for it!"

"Nah, I was thinking bigger… James Gang bigger."

Bob stared at his brother, who only cackled and smacked him heartily on the back. 

"Revenge is a sweet, sweet thing, my friend."

Bob wasn't so sure.

~+~+~+~

Vala kicked her dress stand and received a sharp pain in her toe. 

"His to control! Who does he think he is?" she fumed, pacing back and forth. She threw her hands up and spun to face the window. She curled her hands around the windowsill and pressed her forehead against the glass. "I'll teach him… I won't play his china doll any longer… He'll learn." 

And the six spun to a nine.

~+~+~+~

Billy placed himself across from the Malfoy Manor gates. He perked an ear, recognized the familiar trot, and sighed. 

__

Close call, Black, he growled. 

Padfoot plopped himself alongside Billy. He nodded towards the Manor. _Something's up._

Well, obviously, Billy replied, rolling his eyes.

He shot a glance at Billy, felt it unnecessary to comment on the foxhound's attitude, and rose. _Give me a signal when she leaves._

Billy stared; he jerked his head at the Manor. _What makes you think she's leaving?_

Call it mysterious animal instincts, he answered, turning away. 

Billy curled a lip back. _Smart-ass. _

~+~+~+~

The night came slower than Vala could stand. Despite her impatience, she dined quietly and spoke lightly.

"I think I may turn in early," she said, lifting her gown and raising from the table. 

"I'll be up shortly," he replied, cutting into his steak.

She paused by his shoulder. "Do take your time." 

He resumed his meal while she waltzed from the dining room and to the hallway. She touched the handrail. "When a toy's broken, throw it away," she scoffed diplomatically. She took her time on the stairs, wondering when she might walk them again. _Tonight, of course, _she reminded. 

Velvet enveloped the land and diamonds launched themselves into the sky. The moon, nearing its full, dropped beams across the landscapes and glazed the lakes. Vala lay on her side, staring out the window, Saxon breathing deeply beside her. She pulled herself to a sitting position and slowly rose from the bed. 

Reminding herself to breathe, she collected her few possessions. Saxon groaned. She froze, standing still as a statue and painfully closing her eyes. A silent prayer emitted her lips. For one agonizing minute she waited, and then Saxon rolled on his side. She breathed a sigh of relief, and slipped out the door. 

"You thirsty, Misses?"

Vala spun on her heels. Galway stood before her, wringing an old rag and looking uncertain. 

"Thirsty, Misses?" he repeated.

"No, no," she hushed, breathing shakily. "I'm quite alright… fancied a walk, that's all. A spot of fresh air," she added for emphasis. 

"Yes, ma'am," he said, turning to his left and walking down the hallway.

"Galway?" she whispered. 

He looked back. "Ma'am?"

"Do you like working here?"

He tilted his head a bit and scratched his ear. "Never thought about it much, ma'am."

"Oh… Very well then, do take care."

"Yes, ma'am." And he left, wondering what she meant. 

Vala made it soundlessly down the stairs and to the front door. She grabbed her cloak from the door side, and reached for the door handle. Momentarily, she wondered if any hexes or charms were placed on the door at night. Taking the risk, she pulled the door open. Nothing happened. She hesitated. Pulling up the hood to her cloak, she stepped under the archway. Again, she waited. Nothing. Hitching up her robes, she streamed from the Manor. 

~+~+~+~

His furry head resting between his paws, Billy listened for the slightest sound. He quirked his ears and eyebrows at a few nocturnal birds and the occasional mouse, but all in all, nothing had happened. 

Near midnight, or so he guessed, he heard the pattering of feet. He rose his head; it was coming from the Malfoy Manor. Instinctively, his ears rolled back and a low growl rose from deep inside him. 

Something in black ran to the gates, applying pressure to a stitch in her side, her pale face was made visible. She breathed heavily, looked cautiously around, and took off again. 

The animal side of him screaming for him to chase anything running and the human side of him screaming that she was in his Watch, and a need to satisfy both sides, he split after her. The gravel crunched under his small paws, and he swerved into the bushes. And a great weight slammed him into a tree. 

__

I'll take it from here, the black dog growled. 

If there were words to express Billy's emotions at that moment, he would have used them. Instead, he substituted fierce snaps and snarls. 

The dog looked at him quite seriously, and Billy remembered falling silent. Black had given him such a territorial stare, but even more than territorial, it was anxious. He glanced up at the running figure, nodded at Billy, and took off in great leaps. 

Billy shifted and slumped against a tree. 

"Misplace her, Black, and I'll tear out your jugular."

~+~+~+~

Vala ran for a good three miles. Well, perhaps not the _entire _three miles. There had been a good quarter of a mile she staggered aimlessly, urging herself on. The time was slipping by, but she thought it safe to rest against a crooked tree. 

__

Running away at my age, she mused, gaping for breath. _Life sucks. _

"I once ran away," a voice said casually. 

Her eyes rolled to the source. 

He half turned from her, tilting his head back to gaze up at the stars. 

If she had any breath, she'd answer back with something brilliantly sarcastic. The situation being as it was, she kept her place against the tree, her frail chest inhaling and exhaling with breath. 

"'Course I was sixteen," he said conversationally. "How old are you now?"

__

Why now? she cursed, closing her eyes. _Anytime but now--damn you, Merlin._

His back was now facing her, his hands on his hips. "You forget how beautiful they are," he commented. 

"What?" she managed, passing a hand across her forehead and down her cheek. Her question wasn't so much the item he was speaking of, but why he was speaking at all. 

"The stars," he answered brightly, facing her and gesturing to the heavens. 

She gasped, and then she fainted. 

__

(A/N: Not as long as I'd like, but the next chapter should be fun to write. And I feel particularly bad leaving this at a cliffhanger, but I wasn't sure how to make the next section fit in. My apologies. O'course tonight I get to see League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Better be worth the ticket, theatres are **expensive** these days!) 


	36. When I Come Around

When I Come Around

__

I heard you crying loud all the way across town

You've been searching for that someone

And it's me out on the prowl

As you sit around feeling sorry for yourself

Don't get lonely now

Dry your whining eyes

I'm just roaming for the moment

Chirping filled her ears and sunlight danced across her eyelids, slowly Vala opened her eyes. She blinked once, and furrowed her brow. All around the world people were waking up, and there was that bliss moment of refreshment. Then the night's events hit them and they were up and scrambling about for their keys and an explanation as to why they were late for work. 

__

Where am I? she asked herself drastically, bolting upright. Immediately her head began to ache. 

"Careful there, you took quite a shock last night," a voice said calmly. He thought for a moment and added, "Then you banged your head against a tree."

Slowly, she turned to face the source. The pounding disappeared and her eyes widened as she looked upon Sirius Black. 

Questions filled her head like darkness in the Malfoy Manor after the candles have been snuffed. She was confused, but most of all, she was scared. "Where are we?" she asked anxiously, searching her surroundings for some clue. "_Where are we, _Sirius?" she screeched, scrambling to her feet. She banged her head against the ceiling and fell down just as quickly. Nursing her head, she noticed movement from the corner of her eye. She glanced at it, took a double take, and an explosion occurred somewhere between her lungs and her vocal cords. 

Sirius leapt at her, covering her mouth with a firm hand, and wrapping his other arm around her middle. "Shhh! Want all of Hogsmeade up here? Shh…" he said, more comfortingly this time. "It's just Buckbeak," he explained. "He's a Hippogriff. Calm down… Now if I take my hand away do you promise not to scream again?" 

She nodded, though her eyes were still wide with a mixture of panic and fear. He lowered his hand from her mouth and she was frightened into silence as her chest heaved in jagged breaths.

After a short length of time she managed, "Wha-what's go-going on?" 

"We're in Hogsmeade," he replied quietly, moving to the mouth of the cave. Crouching and stabilizing himself on his hands, he peered out. "After you fainted, I brought you here."

She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she asked, "Why would you do that?"

He glanced back at her, saw her hysterics vanishing, and smiled a miraculously white smile.

__

How could his teeth **possibly **be that white, she inquired silently.

"Because every Malfoy and his uncle will be looking for you," he answered seriously, glimpsing out the cave one last time before bringing himself to her side and settling. "Why, I might be as generous as to say you're more popular than me… Can't have that now, can we? You know how I hate competition."

Somehow, and she would never know how, Sirius had a way of making light of any situation. He'd squeeze the situation dry for a single drop of sunlight. "No," she sighed. "Every Malfoy tracker and spy will be looking for me. Every Malfoy and his uncle will be plotting over scrolls and sipping Dark Mark Martinis." She sighed again, more heavily. "And no," she said, a weak smile flitting around her lips. "You love competition. It gives you an indescribable rush."

"Maybe," he reasoned. "But that doesn't explain why I have competition at all. I am, after all, a ruthless murderer-"

"As quoted by Rita Skeeter."

"And any reporter looking for a paycheck with two ounces of intelligence," he added. 

"Well then it's lucky I'm not a reporter," she countered, turning her head to peer at him.

"No, just the wife of a Malfoy," he retorted, turning his head likewise. "Or are things different now?"

She narrowed her eyes and looked away with a scowl. "You always were a git," she muttered viciously. She sized up the Hippogriff, losing its edge in her current state of agitation. "What's the deal with this thing anyway?"

"That _thing_'s name is Buckbeak and he's a Hippogriff." 

A memory flickered in her mind. "Buckbeak…" she murmured. The beast looked up and seemed to recognize her. Immediately, she remembered. "Hagrid's Hippogriff? It lived then?" She looked to Sirius.

He stared at her, his brow wrinkling. 

"I, uh… read about it in the paper," she saved, directing her gaze elsewhere. 

His head tilted to one side, but soon found it best to absorb interest from something less than Vala. 

The silence droned on for minutes. Both had a million questions riding their mind, but neither knew what to say.

Eventually, Vala found her voice. "Why did you run away from home?" 

"It wasn't my home, nor my real family… I found that at the Potters. And you?" He glanced at her, only to redirect his gaze as quickly. 

"Me too… I found mine at Remus'." Finally, she looked at him. 

~+~+~+~

Billy dragged his feet, his spurs clinking lightly. He paused before the door, bowing his head. He sighed, pulled the wheat stem from his mouth, and tossed it over his shoulder. Twisting the knob and pushing the door open, he entered. 

Gun shots and screaming resounded off the walls. A smile curled his lip as he clinked his way towards the hideous couch and a plopped down behind Napoleon and Seth. Typically, a thick cloud of dust would be thrown into the air, but the 1970's artifact never had time to collect it. Someone was always sitting on it, lying on it, or simply passed out on it. 

It really was an ugly couch. Perhaps a few centuries back it had been the catch of the day, the cat's meow, Michael Jordan's jockstrap… It rather resembled the last with a deep crimson turned dirt maroon and the fantastic sunlight flowers turned piss yellow. The overall effect was just short of nauseating. 

One would think such an antique would take away from the rest of the room, but it didn't. In a stomach wrenching way, it complimented the pasty white curtains spattered with beer and the deteriorating brown carpet. Behind the couch was a water-stained table and mismatched dining chairs. Not that anyone ever dined there, that's what the couch was for. Instead, they used the table to play Exploding Snap and roll the occasional joint. The James themselves never smoked, but several of their guests did. 

The quarters might not have been so bad had someone not attempted to decorate it. Two framed pictures of a barn and a windmill hung lopsided on the wall behind the Entertainment Center--a television set propped up on two red plastic storage crates locked together by massive amounts of duct tape. Beside each picture was a candleholder bearing a red candlestick. One candle was burned halfway through and the other was cracked in the middle, it's upper half hanging limply to one side. 

Few rules applied to the Crib, two namely--If it's broken, _duct it!_ and Don't clean it up, _just rub it in! _The Crib was stained and dirty, held together by duct tape, and had the faint smell of a sick bed, but it was home. 

Two beers sat between Napoleon and Seth, who rocked back and forth with frantic attempts to get ahead of the game. Billy reclined back, his head resting against the couch's arm and a foot hanging over the other end. He kicked off his shoes, pulled his hat down over his eyes and tried to get some shuteye. 

The screeching of tires and the clicking of controllers kept him awake. 

"Couldn't you play somewhere else?" Billy mumbled under his hat.

"And where do you propose we do that?" Seth asked, jerking to one side. 

"The arcade?" he suggested.

"Can't," said Napoleon, his eyes glued to the game. 

"And why's that?" he asked, not really interested. 

"Got kicked out after Seth made some Muggle kid cry."

"Is that all?"

"Well, that and we totally destroyed Dance Dance Revolution."

"After Napoleon crashed Star Wars Pinball."

"And Seth broke Miss Pacman."

Billy sighed, sinking further into the couch. It was unnecessary to mention their luck on the owner, who was a wizard. They never had any charges pressed against them and they would never be sued simply because it was easier to repair the machines than prosecute the James Brothers. "It's beyond me why he doesn't ban you for good," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to make himself comfortable.

"Old Stroker? Pfft… He likes us too much to do that," Napoleon claimed.

"'Sides, the Arcade wouldn't draw _any _crowds without us hanging around-"

"Destroying things," Billy added with a bite of sarcasm.

"Exactly," Seth finished, not skipping a beat.

Their game continued for an agonizing hour and a half. By that time, Billy had fallen into a light sleep.

Napoleon leaned against the couch, kicking a few empty long necks aside to stretch out his legs. "Hey, Bill?"

His snore was cut short as he jerked awake. "Huh--yeah?" His hat dropped to the floor and he looked around, blinking heavily. 

"Haven't you had Watch for the last hour?"

"Huh? Uh…" he ran a hand through his hair, unsteadily sitting upright. "No."

Napoleon swung his head in the direction of his white brother. "I thought you said he had Watch, fool."

"Huh?" Seth rose his eyebrows, standing at the counter. He was pouring himself a bowl of cereal. "Oh, um… wait a minute." He tried pouring milk into his cereal, wasting one-third of the galleon. After a minute of carelessness he managed to fill the bowl up as well as cover the counter. Setting his hands in the milk-coated counter, he leaned forward and listened to the crackling of the rice krispies. Hypnotized by the sound, he didn't answer for another five minutes. Finally, he pulled away, dunked in a spoon and rested against the countertop. Eating large spoonfuls of his breakfast, he lost all recollection of the conversation. 

"Seth?" 

He looked up, his eyes wide and the end of a spoon sticking out of his mouth. "Hmm?"

"I thought you said Billy had Watch," he repeated patiently. 

"Mmm…" he considered it for a moment, then nodded. Removing the spoon and dipping it into the bowl again, he said, "He does." 

Napoleon turned to stare at Billy. "Well?"

Billy sat back. They had to find out sometime. "Can't," he attempted passively, but nerves flushed through his vowels. 

"And why's that?"

"Black took over."

Seth dropped his spoon. 

"You didn't track them?"

"Nope," he said, "And I don't intend on it." Scooping up his hat, he placed it on his head and grabbed his boots. He stood up and unnecessarily dusted off his jeans. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go repair some of the damage you've done." He sidestepped Napoleon and made it to the door. "If anyone needs me, I'll be at the Arcade." With a tip of his hat, he was gone. 

At length, Napoleon said in amazement, "He backed down to Black."

Seth stared at his fallen item. After some time, he swooped down and picked it up. He held it at eye level, pondering over the filthiness of the floor. Deciding it wasn't bad enough to find another spoon, he breathed on it, polished off on his shirt, and resumed eating. At length, "Imagine that."

~+~+~+~

"You're not really going to eat that, are you?" Vala asked, wrinkling her nose. 

Sirius was squatting, bending to look under a rock. He looked up with curious chocolate brown eyes. They made Vala hungry. He held the cricket up for her to see. "This?" he asked, shaking it a bit. 

"Oh Sirius, don't-"

He raised the cricket to his mouth and made to eat it. Smiling, he lowered the struggling bug. 

"I knew you wouldn't do it."

Quickly, he bent his head back and dropped the bug within. 

__

Crunch

Vala's stomach flipped.

__

Crunch

Her throat heaved.

__

Crunch

She turned away to vomit, but her stomach was empty and she only dry-heaved.

"The trick is," he said conversationally. "Is to get them before they really start moving around because let me tell ya, it's _disgusting_ when you go to swallow and they hop across your mouth." He smiled and finished brightly, "Figured that out the first time around." 

"Oh, that's disgusting," she murmured, clutching her stomach and turning an olive green.

"No it's not, it's a good source of protein. And," he started, moving to another rock. "If you're staying here, it'd be ideal for you to pick few up yourself. That is, unless you cook."

She'd been averting her eyes in case he found another squirming entrée, but now she looked at him. "Why is that?"

"Because, then I can hunt and you can cook whatever I drag back."

"And if you don't bring anything back?"

"Souris a la Grillon!" he said richly, kissing his fingers like a French cook. 

"That would be…?"

"Rat with cricket!" he translated cheerfully. 

"Please tell me you're joking," she requested, looking mortified.

"Not at all."

Vala cursed under her breath and leaned against the side of the cave. She left Saxon. That was supposed to lead to her release from all ties and laws. She was supposed to be free. And now what? As soon as she breaks loose, she's bound to new rules. 

"It's not fair," she voiced. "Life sucks."

A subtle sigh escaped Sirius. "I know," he said, and he said it with such understanding, such heart-felt sorrow, that her eyes shifted and locked on him. He looked up at her, and they connected. 


	37. Hang On Sloopy

Hang On Sloopy

__

Sloopy lives in a very bad part of town  
And everybody there tries to put my Sloopy down  
Sloopy I don't care what your daddy do  
'Cause you know Sloopy girl I'm in love with you  
And so I'm singing...  
  
Sloopy let your hair down girl, let it run down on me  
Sloopy let your hair down girl, let it run down on me  


"I just want her back," Saxon said, slumped in a chair, his hand covering his eyes.

The black-clad figure regarded the boy, his expression shadowed by a deep hood. 

Ares pressed his hands against the chair side, leaning in to peer at his son. "Losing your head over a girl?" he sneered. He exhaled sharply, his disappointment and disgust apparent. "We've done things your way, it's time we do them mine," he said firmly, lowering himself into his chair. He directed his unwavering gaze to the tracker.

"You've failed me once," he said. "Don't let it happen again."

The tracker nodded. 

Saxon's ragged breathing was taken into account. The tracker turned his head to stare, and Ares narrowed his eyes. 

"When you find her, kill her," he commanded.

"Father, no!" Saxon cried, bolting upright.

The tracker nodded and whirled to leave. Saxon dropped to his knees and clung onto his robe. "No! Don't kill her!" he pleaded. "Don't. No… please…" his speech was broken as his pleading twisting into a sob. "I love her," he whispered.

Ares rose and pulled his son back by the collar of his robes. He nodded his head towards the door for the tracker to leave. He did. When the door clicked, Ares knelt down next to his son. "What has gotten into you?" he hissed, jerking his son's head upright by the roots of his hair. "This charade has gone on long enough. Do you need this girl?"

Saxon nodded, tears streaming his cheeks. 

Years ago Ares learned the meaning of passion; it didn't take him long to learn it's destruction. Just as urgently, he'd wash the sticky substance from his hands and moved on with his life. It was time his son did the same. "Saxon," he said more calmly, loosening his grip and smoothing his son's hair back. "What has this wife of yours ever done for you?"

"Come again?" he choked, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

"You've given her your attention, you've put a roof over her head and you've dressed her up like a china doll," he said delicately. "What has she ever done for you?"

His eyes were bloodshot, but the tears had ceased to fall. "I… I don't know."

Ares nodded and took another approach, "You said you loved her. You gave her your every fiber, and she gave you…?"

His eyes dropped to his palms. 

He placed a hand under his son's chin and gently directed it to look into his gray eyes. Ice against ice. "A woman does not make a Malfoy cry without paying the price," he said. "It's time we throw this china doll away." 

~+~+~+~

Vala sat at the mouth of the cave, a curtain of rain shielding her from view. Her arms were crossed across her abdomen for warmth, and the hood of her cloak was pulled up around her head. She sat just far enough in the cave so the pounding rain couldn't reach her, but just close enough to watch for any oncoming visitors. A light sigh escaped her.

Sirius said he would be back in an hour, and if he wasn't, to send out a search party.

"I hate you, Sirius," she voiced quietly. "Honestly, a search party." She peered out the cave's entrance. Sitting there, she wondered about several things- how long she would have to live in a cave with an ex-convict, what rat tasted like, the ratio of Hippogriff victims… But mainly she wondered how Sirius was making it in the village. He was bound to be spotted. _But, _she reminded herself, _If anyone could pull it off--it'd be Sirius. _

"Sirius," she breathed in a huff. He was annoying and he tap-danced on the very edge of your nerves. He was a sardonic little bastard, but… Well, you couldn't help but love him. He was the type of guy you would walk in on banging your sister. Sure, you'd curse and yell at him, but then he'd get dressed, apologize so sincerely and give you the most honest smile that you'd fall in a slump for scolding the boy. He'd assure you that everything was okay, and you'd believe him. And before he left, you'd even offer him breakfast. He'd decline, of course, but he'd walk away in such a way that you couldn't help but lean against the doorframe thinking, _What a nice boy._

He'd mount his motorcycle, wave goodbye, and depart in a rumble of smoke and leather. Then it would strike you. Everything that had happened in the last hour came back. But by that time Sirius would already be a mile up in the air.

She kicked distractedly at a stone. _I wonder where that motorcycle is now._

Buckbeak looked up. She shifted her eyes to him, and slowly turned her head to face him. "Uh… hi?"

The Hippogriff nosed its beak into its paw. 

She watched it; it looked restless.

"Buckbeak?" she tried.

He ceased his scratching and stared at her. 

She racked her mind for a memory of the past. It seemed she had studied Hippogriffs during one of her years at Hogwarts. Something about blinking… Blink a lot? Don't blink at all… She wrinkled her brow. Gently pushing herself from the rock she'd been leaning against, she half-crawled towards the Hippogriff. 

It watched her steadily, haughtily raising its head like the mighty King of the Jungle. 

She knelt before it. "I do hope you're a nice Hippogriff," she said, slowly reaching a hand forward. "I'd hate to lose my hand at this stage in my life… Maybe in thirty years, hmm?" Surprisingly, the Hippogriff didn't snap at her. She took this as a good sign, and softly touched its glossy feathers. Closing his eyes, he seemed pleased, and she rose to a light stroke. "Aww… you're not that bad," she said. Buckbeak nudged her. Despite herself, she emitted a giggle. "Not bad at all! You're just a big softie, aren't you?"

The Hippogriff eyed her.

"When you want to be," she added quickly. "Why, if you wanted to be tough, you could be there within a blink of the eye." Without realizing it, she let one of Sirius' honest smiles shine through. 

Buckbeak nodded and nudged her arm again.

She laughed, petting him more casually. 

"I see you two are getting on well."

Vala glanced over her shoulder, and spotted Sirius silhouetted by the gray veil. He was running a hand through his hair, something black and feathery held in the other. 

"Oh," she smiled, tuning her attention back to Buckbeak. "We were just getting acquainted is all." She patted him on the neck, and slowly turned to face Sirius. When you're sitting in a cave, and you have a paranoia of smacking your head against the overhead rock, you tend to slow all your activities down a notch. "What have you got there?" she inquired, wiping her hands absently on her robes. 

"Bird!"

Bird didn't sound so bad, good even, but… She cringed, _Crow?_ "Couldn't you find something else? Like… duck, for instance? Duck I can deal with. Duck is okay, but… not _that_!" She pointed a finger at the corpse. 

Sirius frowned. He glanced at the bird clutched in his hand, and narrowed his eyes in irritation. He tossed the dead animal to Buckbeak, and muttered, "Duck… Who does she think she is? The Emperor of China?" He slumped against a rock as Buckbeak chopped merrily at his dinner. 

Vala turned her gaze from Sirius to Buckbeak. She sighed. Carefully, she made her way to the entrance of the cave.

Sirius watched her pass. "Where are you going? You can't go out there."

"Oh?" she inquired, shooting a glance at him. "I'd like to think the Empress of China may go wherever she likes," she said sarcastically, kicking her heel up at him as she left. 

Sirius wrinkled his brow. Could she do that? They were both being sought out by the most powerful men of the country--The Ministry and the Malfoys. He had the cover of Animagi. What did she have?

"If I'm not back in an hour," she called back. "Send out a search party."

Inside the cave, he grinned smugly.

~+~+~+~

"He's going to kill her?"

"Yes."

Saccade sat back, looking an ounce surprised. "Wow." For perhaps the second time in his life, he was speechless. 

Saxon looked ill, but his features were immovable. He sipped his wine. "Yes, whether she returns or is found, her life is mine to take."

"And you're okay with this?"

"Obviously."

~+~+~+~

Vala walked the village, her hood pulled high. Her face was hidden from view, and vaguely she wondered if the villagers suspected her to be a Death Eater. A couple ran by, arms linked and holding newspaper over their heads. Years ago, she might have sighed hopelessly, now she just stared. _Love, _she thought, _a death trap that makes people lose all sensibility and do foolish things. _

She pulled her hood down; it was beginning to droop from the weight of water. _But what am I doing? Out here in the rain, I'm no better than a lovesick fool._ She pulled the ribbon from her hair. _No, I'm just arrogant. _

And she was. She was out in the rain to prove a point. Once in her life, she wanted to prove she could do better than any man. And she could.

She smiled, stepping under the archway and into the welcoming light of a restaurant. She shook her hair out, and rustled her cloak. "Excuse me," she said, "May I see a menu?"

~+~+~+~

Sirius' stomach grumbled. Rubbing his belly, he cast a glance at Buckbeak.

"What do you think she'll bring back?"

Buckbeak looked up, seemed to shrug, and rest its head down between his hooves.

"Yeah," he said, looking out the cave. "I hope it's something good."

~+~+~+~

Vala walked a bit more briskly than she had when she was searching for the restaurant. A villager on a porch assumed the woman was simply trying to get out of the rain, but if the villager had been Mad Eye Moody he'd of known that she had a steaming hot bundle under her cloak, the heat burning through her robes and reaching her skin.

The heat wasn't completely unwelcome, the rest of her was sodden wet and shivering from the cold. But never mind that, she had to get back to the cave before the food cooled. 

She smirked, whisking up the rocky path. She could imagine the look on his face now, and it made the smirk grow.

Entering the cave, Sirius looked up at her with wide eyes. He was curious, horribly curious, and… he kind of reminded her of a dog, looking expectantly up at its master, curious to know what happens next. She bent over and tugged her cloak up, pulling the package out. "Here," she said, dropping the bag in his lap. The bottom was sticky. "The egg-drop soup spilled on the way, but everything else should she okay." She ripped her cloak off and threw it against a rock.

Sirius tilted his head a bit, opening the bag, heavy scents wafted towards him. He smiled, and the Emperor and Empress of China set down to have their dinner. 

__

(A/N: Just possibly, this is the most annoying song… Right next to American Woman and Spill the Wine, but certainly just as pointless with repition of phrases and one general thought. However, I kind of like Hang On Sloopy--it's real carefree and--to me--it's about a girl who hasn't had the greatest of a life, and a guy that just wants to show her to have a good time. Make of it what you will.

Real quick, I'd like to extend a very, very Happy 18th Birthday to the ever-enjoyable Mary. In honor of becoming legal, this chapter is dedicated to her. Oh, and hey look! I used sardonic!)


	38. Do You Believe in Magic

Do You Believe in Magic

__

If you believe in magic, come along with me   
We'll dance until morning 'til there's just you and me   
And maybe, if the music is right   
I'll meet you tomorrow, sort of late at night   
And we'll go dancing, baby, then you'll see   
How the magic's in the music and the music's in me   


Carry out boxes set on various rocks, Sirius turned the bag upside down. Packets of sauce dropped out, he shook it again, and looked inside. "No silverware?"

"Oh yeah," she said, leaning to reach in a pocket of her cloak. "Almost forgot." She tossed a long, slim packet to him.

He opened it. "Chopsticks?"

"What? Delivery truck was late--they didn't have any of those convenient plastic forks and knives." She shrugged, "Better than nothing."

"Have you ever eaten with chopsticks? How are we supposed to eat the rice or soup?" The glory of an early Christmas fell from his eyes like it might from a child who's told he cannot play with any of his toys until the twenty-fifth of December. 

"Well, I should assume you'd drink it straight from the bowl… But in any case, the soup is on my robes and we won't be eating it." A smirk slipped her as she unwrapped her chopsticks. "As for the rice, do what you can… But I think there's a way of holding these things so you can just scoop it up." She experimented and only succeeded in dropping them. "Right… Mind passing the vegetables?" 

Sirius checked around him. "Vegetable lo Mein or Vegetable Manchurian?"

Vala stared. Truth be told, one look at the menu and she had politely asked the waiter to explain what everything was. After a lengthy monologue, she'd simply dropped a handful of money on the counter and told him to fry anything up he could find. And fast.

She was flabbergasted. She'd probably eaten more exquisite and expensive meals in the last week than he had in his entire life, and yet… It wasn't that odd, really. When someone is in Vala's position they don't often know the official name of what they're eating, just that they like it and it has those little white circles they like so much.

"Something with… those white, circle things," she said, turning a subtle pink. 

"Water chestnuts?" he asked, hiding the smile from his face but not his voice. "Ah, here we are." Without checking its contents, he handed her a box with a number 14 scrawled on the side. 

She took it, her eyebrows wrinkling. "How did-"

"Hey, sweet and sour chicken," he expressed happily, opening another box and taking a moment to enjoy the fragrance. He lifted his chopsticks and prodded the contents. He frowned. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Oh, nothing…" Gingerly, she picked up a white bag and pulled out one of those crispy triangular things with the white filling. She loved those. Sirius stabbed a hunk of chicken as she dribbled that clear yellowish sauce over it. 

Vala finished the Crab Rangoon and Sirius had set down his box and began eyeing the others. Vala picked up the number 14 again and Sirius grabbed a number 17. 

He groaned.

"What?" she asked, pulling the flaps back. 

"Noodles."

"You don't like noodles?"

"No, I do."

Silence. Vala broke first, "Then what's the problem?"

He held up his chopsticks, a vague smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "These are my problem."

"Oh." She looked down into her number 14, luscious vegetables just begging to be eaten. Her eyes traveled to the chopsticks lying in her lap. She lifted them optimistically and tried to pick up some baby corn; tried being the main verb. After several failed attempts, she grumbled a few swearwords and tossed her chopsticks aside. Just her luck, they clattered down next to Buckbeak, who decided they might be a good treat. "Oh wonderful," she said, rolling her eyes in irritation. 

Sirius moved next to her and held out a single sauce stained chopstick. 

She stared at it for awhile before accepting; it was an odd gesture, but then Sirius wasn't your average person. In fact, he seemed to be an exception to every rule ever made. He was the type of bad boy you wouldn't hesitant to bring home and meet the parents. And she had to admit, she was a spark jealous. She opened her mouth to say something, but fell silent. She poked a vegetable. There was so much she had to say, so much to ask… But for now she could remain quiet. What was her hurry? They had time. 

"Something on your mind?" he asked casually, wrapping noodles around his lone chopstick. She opened her mouth and turned to him. He held the chopstick near his mouth. "What?"

"Aren't you going to put something on those?"

He stuck the noodles in his mouth, typically slurping the last one through his lips. He chewed and swallowed. "Like what?"

"Like," her eyes searched the boxes. They fell back to her number 14. She turned the thought over for a moment before grabbing Sirius' number 17. "Like vegetables," and with that she upturned the box over hers. Some noodles slithered to the ground, but most of them fell into her container. She stirred it, making more noodles fall in the process. "Here," she said, offering it to him.

"What's it called?" he asked, amused.

"Oh shut up and eat it," she said, shoving it into his unresisting hands. 

He curled a noodle around his chopstick and frowned. "Might be a spot difficult," he said, "Can't curl and stab at the same time."

She peered inside the container. "Is that so… Make a toast over it, why don't you." She dropped her chopstick, and did something the wife of Saxon Malfoy would never do, she reached inside the box with her bare hand and withdrew a clump of vegetables and noodles. 

Sirius grinned, and gingerly pulled out a clump himself. He held his hand high in the air, sauce splashing the rocks and slinking down his arm. "Viva la Empress of China!"

Vala rose her hand as well, and smirked. "Viva la Emperor of China!" 

They clanked hands and linked arms, eating the combination of vegetables and slurping the noodles. Food splattered the ground, but they didn't care. They had other things on their minds. 

~+~+~+~

Billy closed the door, and in case no one heard him bang his head against it, he thumped his fist for emphasis. Generally he liked old Stroker, but it'd been a trip to fix all the games. Teenagers and children of all ages kept crowding around and gawking, and hadn't left until they grudgingly drew the curtains. 

"Hat off in the house, Bill." 

They only reminded him on occasion, and it wasn't because of some respectable rule they had, hardly at all; it didn't even apply to all hats, just Billy's. The problem was, you let Billy the Kid keep his hat on too long and his judgements started to flip back a few centuries. Before you knew it, he was flanking chaps and sporting a worn-leather vest. Let him keep it on too long and he'd exchange his wand for a rifle. 

Except for this, Billy was generalized as normal. Save the fact that he was a child prodigy, never knew his real family, and left his adoptive parents to live with two men in their early thirties, who not only thought they were brothers but were separate races. Did anyone mention that he'd joined a league of outlaws who worked to bring around their own justice in a world of injustice? Yeah, save those minor factors, he was incredibly normal. 

"Why?" he grumbled.

"Because we've got company," replied Napoleon, who sat at the water-stained table. "And we don't want to spend another night at the police station explaining why you've been carrying a rifle around in full cowboy garb--harking at Muggles. And if that's not enough, we're already up to our necks in explanations to the Ministry--hat off," he finished.

Billy tore the hat off, shook his dirty blond curls out, and tossed the hat unto a chair. He became a different man, Benjamin Earl of the Crib. Ben rubbed his face. "Where's Seth?"

"Buying dinner."

He quirked a brow at him. "Doesn't he usually eat cereal?"

A grin cracked his face. "He does when he doesn't lose against me in Dance Dance Revolution."

Billy shook his head, and made to sit down. "He'll never learn--white men can't dance."

"Damn straight. He just doesn't listen."

"Too bull-headed."

"Hm, sounds like someone I know," Seth mentioned casually, leaving the door open.

Ben turned in his seat. He spotted Seth's companion, whose back was facing him. "Hey, that's not the same girl who had here last night," he grinned. 

"Don't be a prat, Ben--If I had a girl over here we would've been called on for disturbing the peace. And in any case, Bill's not a girl."

That's right… Ben had thought the leather pants were a bit loose for a female. Bill waved a hand, revealing a spiked bracelet, then turned, revealing a dangling tooth-earring. Ben was always more taken by Bill's hair, which was flaming red and far longer than his own. Where Ben let his curls hang loosely, Bill had his pulled back with a black ribbon. On first meetings, he wasn't sure whether he was impressed or disgusted. Eventually, he'd chosen impressed. 

Now it was no more one than the other. As Regulars often become… well, regular guests, they become who they are without the labels and without the explanations; they're just someone you come to accept as your own. Even when they leave, they don't exactly leave. Regulars become part of the scenery, the atmosphere. 

Ben wasn't exactly _friends_ with Bill, but… you get accustomed to seeing the same face around--sound asleep on the couch, glued to the TV, or smirking after you've woken from a deep sleep and the first headaches of a hangover are smacking you. 

Napoleon rose and stood by the counter. "What'd you get?"

"Hamburgers and orange soda," answered Seth pulling everything from the bag and setting it down on the counter. He rubbed an eye and stifled a yawn.

Napoleon grabbed two hamburgers and the bottle of soda. He unscrewed the top and drank straight from the bottle. 

"Hope you're not a germaphobic," replied Ben, "Because we do things differently in the Crib than we might at home."

"This is Home," Napoleon declared, following it with a belch. 

"I've got five brothers and a sister, I'm not about to complain about germs," Bill responded, taking the bottle next. 

Ben vaguely remembered Seth mentioning that once or twice. He'd seen Bill before, but only passingly. He usually had more important matters to tend to--tracking, saving Napoleon's and Seth's necks, fetching sticks at the park… He was a busy man. Much busier than his roommates in any case, who spent a good deal of their time playing basketball, video games, and on a rare day--the guitar. Yes, Ben knew Bill… he was the usual punk rocker who whipped Napoleon and Seth off to concerts and parties that didn't end until you could watch the sunrise on top of someone's truck. 

Seth unwrapped a burger and sheepishly bit into it.

"Tired already?" asked Ben, breaking his train of thought and glancing at his wristwatch. He was the only one who ever wore one, and the one on the microwave was exactly one hour and forty-seven minutes too fast. This irritated him to no extent, but whenever anyone got around to fixing it--usually him--it just seemed to speed up the next time he checked it. Slightly paranoid, he wondered if Seth and Napoleon changed it during the late hours of the night; he highly doubted Napoleon's explanation of visiting pixies, who get their kicks from knocking people off schedule. "It's only a quarter till."

Napoleon urged him on silently, his mouth full of burger.

"Quarter till **nine**, would it kill you to buy a watch?"

He swallowed. "Yes. I'm a broke bugger and keeping a watch up would dry up my savings, which Bill here puts a lot of effort into protecting. No use in putting two people on the street just to keep track of time, eh?" He winked and took another chomp from his burger.

"Don't wink at me, and if that's the case I'll buy you a watch myself," Ben snapped, viciously biting his burger. 

"I look forward to it."

Ben bought him a watch for Christmas every single year, and Napoleon would wear it… for a week or two, and then he'd start forgetting it and eventually cease to wear it at all. Seth was another case. Seth received a watch every year as well, and it turned him into a maniac. After a few days of wearing the watch he became a timeaholic, setting his watch by the second and constantly checking what time it was. It was a nervous habit if anything, but then he'd evolve into time-keeping and he'd start timing everything--how long his favorite TV shows were (extracting the commercials), how long it took for the pizza man to arrive (down to the second), how long it took Ben to finish a beer (1 hour 23 minutes and 56 seconds), and (Napoleon's least favorite) how long his brother played the game system before it was his turn. And he'd continue like this until Napoleon was on his last and hid the blasted thing. 

"Actually," said Bill, pausing to swallow, "I don't do the protecting--that's more goblin work."

"Do they really have dragons in Gringotts?" asked Ben, slightly off topic. Just slightly.

Bill looked to the upper corner, considering the question. He shook his head a bit. "No, I don't think so," but followed it with a shrug. "Of course, Merlin alone knows what's kept in Gringotts. I don't even think the goblins do."

"But they work there," reasoned Ben, swallowing a bigger bite than he would have liked. 

"Ever met a goblin, Ben?" Bill asked conversationally, leaning on the counter. "They're untrustful little buggers… Not in the sense you might think. They're very trustful for secrets and safe-keeping, but they don't share secrets--not even among their own kind." He tapped his temple. "Whatever is seen is kept in here, and it's nobody else's business to drop surveys." 

"Oh."

"But don't let it get you down," he winked, "There's probably close to a hundred dragons in Gringotts--Of course, my brother Charlie could tell you for sure."

"Really?" Ben asked, perking up.

"Yeah, just don't ask me how they feed them."

~+~+~+~

It's an unwritten law all over the world that the average human being cannot finish his or her meal--if it's Chinese. It's not a law so much in the sense that the police will break down your door, tackle you to the floor and wrestle you into handcuffs--as it is written into the human brain that you must buy more Chinese than anyone could possibly eat, and save the left overs for the following night. 

Left overs was the evidence, a food fight was the case. Now the two opponents sat back, the remnants of a great dinner splattered across their faces like war paint and stuck in their hair like gum. 

Sirius inhaled deeply. "What a day."

"And I'm filthy."

Buckbeak was inching around, eating anything he could find.

Sirius glanced out the cave. "The rain's letting up."

"I am so incredibly dirty."

"Still raining pretty hard though," continued Sirius.

"Ugh, I need a shower."

"The rain is a nice substitute."

Vala stopped picking those long, green things she hates from her hair and stared at him. "What'd you say?"

He stood up, rubbing his belly. Then he tugged on her hand. "Come on, let's go."

__

(A/N: I finished writing this last night, but it took me forever to find a song. Luckily I already have one for the next chapter. I love this song, and even if you hate 60's music you gotta adore this one. 

Okay, this chapter is dedicated to Syrene… simply because I was having a rotten day and her review really brightened my mood. Thank you!)


	39. Put in on Me

Put it on Me

__

Where would I be without my baby  
The thought alone might break me  
And I don't wanna go crazy  
But every thug needs a lady

"But it's raining, Sirius!" Vala protested.

He stopped to smile at her. "You're dirty aren't you?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"You want to get clean, don't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then let's go!" and he continued to pull her out the cave. 

"Not like this!" she defied, ripping her hand from his and placing them on her hips. She wasn't about to hand over everything she'd fought for. She was bound to Saxon, and now that she'd escaped him, things were going to change. Freedom was hers and if she didn't want to run in the rain then there was nothing anybody could say or do to make her. 

Sirius faced her. His head tilted slightly to the right and a smile graced his lips. Amusement, and a light that all the years of Azkaban could never steal, danced in his eyes. One hand behind his back, and the other held up for her, he seemed to imitate a delighted, yet reserved butler. "Trust me," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. 

She hesitated; it wasn't a command at all… it was a request. He _wanted _her to come with him, and if she declined… well, he wouldn't hold it against her, but he'd certainly be put out. _Never kick a lying dog, _she thought, taking his hand. 

And he stole her away into the night.

~+~+~+~

The tracker lurched through Hogsmeade, listening carefully. Generally he had good hearing, and occasionally he perked his ears, but it was all in vain; you couldn't hear a tramp on a spring bed in this mess. He trudged through the rain, less gracefully than he would have liked.

The rain was thinning, but not much. And he knew all too well that once the rain had parted a thick fog would cover the land, and further hours would be spent in restlessness. _At least, _he reasoned, _you can track in fog. _He didn't mind fog too much. True, two teenagers could be having sex ten feet to his right and he'd never know, but they wouldn't see him either. In fact, he'd have the upside because at least he could _hear _them; they'd be so caught up in each other that they'd never even consider a third party. 

__

Fog's good, he eventually concluded. It gave him effortless cover while allowing him to track unsuspecting victims. 

__

Merlin I hate fog, he gloomed; it gave him too much time to think and before he knew it he was on topics as irrelevant as the fog. 

He peered down the street and it might as well have been fog, he couldn't see a damned thing. 

~+~+~+~

The trip down had been delightful enough. Vala had loosened up after tripping into Sirius, and together they laughed it off. At first she thought they were headed for the village, but at the bottom of the hill Sirius had pulled her in the opposite direction and to a clearing. 

The rain smacked against a small, round pool of water. "I thought it might be full," he said. Gently, he dropped her hand and moved closer to the edge. The rain covered him, and if she stood five feet back she might not be able to see him at all, but what she could make out he was crouching down next to the water and sticking an arm in it. Pulling his arm out, he shook it off--not that it did much. She thought she saw him smile, and then wave her forward.

She stepped towards him, her feet sinking only a bit against the rocks, which held a steady path against the river of mud. The surface of the pool was blurry by the slapping rain, and though the water was crystal clear and she doubted it was very deep, she couldn't see the bottom. 

Sirius waded into the water, it rose to mid-thigh on him, and held his hand out for her. She stopped, silently staring at the hand. He looked to her, and she was struck by what he'd said. _Trust me, _she repeated in her head. _I trusted you once, _she thought, _you said you'd never leave me… And you did. Don't break this promise too. _Inhaling deeply, she took his hand.

~+~+~+~

The tracker glanced around, curious where his wanderings had led him. Being in the rain for a few hours, his mood was light and thoughtful. He'd cast a charm on his robes, so he was quite dry. Another charm took care of the frigid air, and with nothing else to think about, he was quite bored.

"Ah," he said, looking to his left. "The Shrieking Shack." 

He stepped up to the fence, resting his hands on the splintering wood. He spared a thought for his brother. 

"While I was at Durmstrang learning the Dark Arts and watching my back, you were at Hogwarts," he mused. "Learning Defense and making friends."

Romulus gazed at the Shrieking Shack. "I never could decide whether I hated or pitied you for your Lycanthropy… But sometimes I wonder, what did I miss?" 

~+~+~+~

Vala dunked Sirius. "Urk, wash that hair of yours!" she hollered, rubbing her hands into his head. 

He made a comeback, plunging from the water and grinning as he took her down into it. Playfully, he rubbed her hair to wash the vegetables and sauce out. Soon he let go and she popped up, gasping for air.

"You git!" she screamed, lunging herself at him and pulling both of them into the shallow depths of the pool. Sirius banged his back against the rock, but he had revenge on his mind. Pushing against the bottom of the pool and thrusting himself upward, he managed to not only surface, but stand up. Vala, propelled against him, also found her feet. To keep her from falling backward, Sirius caught a hand under her. 

Her back arching, Vala giggled. She tossed her arms around his neck and threw her head back in laughter. Sirius' smug smirk shifted to a soft smile. As the laughter died away from her lips, she gazed up into the deep brown eyes of her warm-hearted friend. Searching. Searching for something…

His eyes were soft and welcoming. They reassured her and she knew in her heart that if he should so happen to say anything at that moment, regardless of what it was, she would believe him. She bent her head to better peer into his eyes. Around them, the rain began to subside, but they never even noticed. 

The same eyes that made her trust him made her love him. But it was a different kind of love. It wasn't the love she felt for Remus, and it wasn't the love she had for Fae and Grant… It was something else. 

And in his eyes, she found what she felt. Above the trust, above the love, she felt understanding. 

His head bent forward and their foreheads pressed against each other, the last of the rain dripping down their backs. They closed their eyes, savoring the moment. 

He moved; it was a slight movement, but it was enough to wake her. His eyes were open, and they were bearing into hers. He was searching for something, and whether he found it or not, he moved his lips closer to hers.

He could feel her breath against his lips when she sighed. 

"Sirius," she whispered, loosening her arms on his neck and setting them against his chest. "I can't do this." 

Confusion leapt to his face. Hadn't she felt it too?

"I'm married," she said, looking away. "Come on," she sighed, pulling away from him and climbing from the pool. "Let's get back to camp." 

Sirius followed behind her, confusion and explanations zooming his mind. It wasn't so much the idea of being turned down by women, believe or not he'd been turned down a good many times in his life, but most of those women were playing a game… He knew he'd win in the end. And that's what it was--a big game. He lost a few and he won even more, but this one was different… This one he wasn't so sure about. 

~+~+~+~

The rain let up and Romulus was on the prowl again. He'd spent enough time staring at the Shrieking Shack, pondering over the past. Instead of heading back to the main village, he decided to try his luck on the other end of the Shrieking Shack. 

Just as he was about to turn back, he spotted a couple. A thin woman slinking up a rocky path and a slim man wandered behind her like a sick puppy. 

"Well what do you know…" he mused quietly, rubbing his chin. "Miss. Amoureux has a male friend."

He spun in a whirl of black robes and cloak, and made his way back to the village for supplies. He'd counted on Vala and maybe even a friend--but another man? Now he hadn't thought of that. Remus had certainly got the creativity of the bunch, and even then there wasn't a large supply of it.

Mentally, he made a note to return later when they might be asleep. 

~+~+~+~

Vala entered the cave, and walked towards the back near Buckbeak. She didn't know the creature much, but she knew it enough to trust it not to gauge out her eyes, or worse--kiss her. She was tearing up inside and she needed some time to think. 

She slumped against the beast, buried her face in her hands, and cried. Buckbeak, only accustomed to Hagrid's wailing, turned an eye on her. Hippogriffs are very intelligent creatures, and he didn't need to be told that the woman's wretched sobs were somehow different. However, he wasn't sure why. 

He nudged her with his beak, asking her what was wrong but also assuring everything would be okay. The tears didn't even break for a brief laugh as it usually did for Hagrid. Buckbeak looked to Sirius, and seemed to ask him to try something. 

The shock dropped from his face as he stepped closer, setting himself down next to Vala and against Buckbeak.

"Vala," he whispered, touching her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

She choked on her tears, and wiped at them in embarrassment. Nothing could tear the shame from her eyes as she glared at him. She never could forgive a man who made her cry--not even her father. All too late, she realized she'd never had a chance to forgive him, and dropped her eyes. She stared at her hands. "I have to leave," she said quietly. 

"Where will you go?" he asked gently.

"Back," she replied, raising her chin to look at the entrance of the cave. "Back to Malfoy Manor and back to Saxon."

"But you can't!" he protested.

She turned to peer at him. "And why not, may I ask?"

Her eyes had given him a warm rush, but now they only held coldness. "I…" he lost the key of understanding and now her mind was a locked door. "I don't know," he finished lamely. 

They both dropped the connection.

"Life was so much easier at sixteen," she voiced.

He shot a glance at her, waiting for her to emphasize.

"On that night I left you told me you ran away when you were sixteen," she added.

He nodded, and supported, "I did."

"Well, I remember it."

He shot a sidelong glance at her. "What do you mean?"

Vala sighed. She knew he wouldn't understand. "You're only five years older than me, Sirius… When you were in your sixth year I was in my first. With the separation of three grades and separate Houses, you aren't bound to remember, but I thought you might make the connection now."

He frowned, still not quite catching her point. "So we were at Hogwarts together for two years…" he shook his head. "I'm still not getting it."

"Figures. You were just as thick-headed then as you are now," she half-insulted, but still speaking the truth. "Only concerned with your knit of friends and the occasional female. If, of course, she was charming enough to catch your eye, which was a compliment in itself."

"What are you talking about?" he finally asked, turning to her. Just as soon he remembered himself and looked away.

"What I'm talking about is that you were devilishly popular and never let it phase you. You never cared about the little man."

"That's not true. I saved several lower classmen's necks when they were being bullied," he pointed out in defense.

"Yeah, when your friends weren't doing the bullying," she countered. "And I saw what you did to Snape."

"That git deserved everything he got," he growled.

"Do you really think so?" Vala glance at him, more calmly than before but with a stern curiosity. She vaguely reminded him of Remus--he'd often given Sirius the same look. "He returned back in my seventh year with a streak meaner than a cornered snake, and he struck at the slightest."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"All I'm saying is things have changed since then. You ran away from home when you were only sixteen and in reward you got to live with your best friend. Do you have any idea how many people envied you? You were tough and rebellious--not to mention half the student body got weak in the knees when you passed by."

A slight grin slipped him.

"We were taken by you," she continued. "You were everything any of us ever wanted to be. And then when we heard you'd invested in a motorcycle, why that only intensified our fantasies. You had power, Sirius, a type of strength I never did." 

He looked at her. He still wasn't sure where things were going.

Vala sighed sharply. She could always spell it out for him to see, but that'd be too easy. His family life had been rotten, or so she guessed because she never heard a single story about his family coming after him and dragging him home in tears, but then, why would she? That'd take away from the mysterious magic he emitted. He'd also spent twelve years of his life in Azkaban, but you know… everything else had been so simple. Everything just came so easy to him, and deep inside her she was somewhat glad to be ahead of the game--even if it was covered by enormous waves of impatience and bitterness. 

"What I'm trying to tell you," she said, "Is that when you ran away you became a legend. So many people looked up to you, and when you ran away it only made you more dashing and daring… Do you remember last night?" she finished inquiringly, throwing him off course.

"Yeah, you ran away yesterday night…" he trailed hopelessly.

"You asked me how old I was."

Another grin slipped through. "And you fainted."

She threw up a hand impatiently and huffed, "Can't you take anything seriously?"

"Yes, sorry. As you were saying?"

"I'm twenty-nine, Sirius, not sixteen," she pointed out obviously.

He stared at her as if to say, I've noticed.

"I can't run away and expect everything that ever went wrong in my life to simply evaporate," she emphasized. "I have to face my problems and think up reasonable courses to take." She turned to him. "You were a kid, you had the choice to run away, I don't."

A reflective silence fell. Sirius finally understood. 

At length, he asked, "You've only got tonight?" 

She nodded glumly. 

He stood up, dusted his robes off, and held out a hand for her again. "Come on then."

She looked up at him. "What?"

"You've only got tonight--don't you think we should make the best of it?"

She stared, but took his hand. "Where are we going?"

He simply smiled, leading her to the mouth of the cave. Carefully stepping out into the rain-swept night, he said, "Just… trust me."

__

(A/N: hehe… I love this song. I was going to upload this chapter earlier, but I spent the weekend at the Lake of the Ozarks where I received a killer sunburn and sore muscles. Got to fish for the first time, ride in a boat, drive a wave runner… Major wipeout, man. This chapter is dedicated to my best friend Emily because she introduced me to this song and her mommy has aloe vera for my sunburn. Heh. Bewelo kisses!) 


	40. Here's to the Night

Here's to the Night

__

So denied so I lied are you the now or never kind  
In a day and a day love I'm gonna be gone for good again  
Are you willing to be had are you cool with just tonight  
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well  
  
Here's to the nights we felt alive  
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry  
Here's to goodbye  
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon

As Sirius pulled Vala from the cave and into the star-speckled night, she realized something. She'd never trusted anyone before quite like she trusted him. Her soul was a complex labyrinth with twists and curves and underground passages and locked doors, and nothing in the labyrinth was inanimate for longer than an hour. There were corners of the Labyrinth man nor woman had ever touched, corners Vala had long since forgotten about, and Sirius reached those cob-webbed areas and filled them with a type of fire that could never burn out as long as he was near to keep it lit. 

Inside Hogsmeade there were bars that didn't close until the early morning lights struck the land. These bars were dark and dank, but you could always get a decent drink and the Regulars never gave you much mind. They were bars people came to get away from their problems, or rather, drown them out. Every town had one, and they were headed for them. They were just the kind of bars a runaway convict and a runaway bride could slink into without notice. 

And they could sit around, toasting each other and toasting the Regulars, but neither of them really wanted that. Vala could read it in his eyes, and she knew it in her heart. 

"Sirius," she laughed, tugging on his arm. "The night is young--dance with me." 

He turned and his eyes lit with a smile. His hair was already drying, and the moonlight danced across it, throwing shadows around. She was so delightfully jealous she could pull him into her and run her fingers through his glorious locks until his scalp ached. Thirteen years had come and gone, and things hadn't changed. Certainly her situation had, but she was just as torn between dependence and independence. She wanted to feel him against her, but at the same time, so far away she couldn't see him. 

Tomorrow would come all too soon, and tomorrow she would be gone. Tomorrow was for independence, tomorrow was for distance. Tonight was for dependence and closeness. "Dance with me," she repeated, pulling him into her. Tonight breathed of love and life. If nothing else, they would always have tonight. 

She linked their hands together, and set his other on her hip. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she took him for a spin. 

Sirius would never be defined as clumsy or even ungraceful, but he was no swan. If anything, he was a bit jerky and fast-paced. Vala had a difficult time containing her laughter as they spun and danced across the sodden grass; the rain made it glistened in the moonlight, adding a magical atmosphere. The fog skipped off of them, and wherever they chose to dance was clear and fresh. 

For once, the Gods played in the favor of the luckless. 

~+~+~+~

"Where are you off to?"

Clyde took his time as he set his hat on top of his head and turned to Bonnie. He mimed a man rocking a baby. 

"The Crib?" she hazarded. "I don't think so."

He nodded, his subtle way of saying he was. He tipped his hat to her, and moved for the doorknob.

"Don't you go out that door, Clyde."

He sighed, and reached for the stick of chalk resting on the ledge under the small chalkboard they kept by the door. On the black slate, he wrote, _Why not? We're not married._

"That doesn't mean I can't leave you, pretty boy," she retorted, a smirk playing at her lips. She was accustomed to being in charge, but she had to laugh every time Clyde tried to take over. 

__

True, but you wouldn't, he scratched onto the board.

"Oh? Why would you even risk it to spend the evening with the James instead of me?"

Now Clyde had to smirk as he wrote, _You're very pretty--but the James got a new game system. _

Bonnie let loose a wave of laughter. "Fine then," she said, holding her arms open for him. "Come give me a kiss." 

He waltzed to her, doing a type of sidestep and trick with his hat before bending low to kiss her. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, weighing him down and placing him in an awkward position. "You be safe," she whispered, "And take care…" Neither ever had to say a thing for the other to know that they would be lost without each other. She let him go, and he straightened his overcoat. He smiled at her, turned on his heel, and made his way back to the door, trying a few dance steps on the way. He rubbed his coat sleeve across the chalkboard, smearing his writing and chalking up his coat. Grabbing the stick of chalk again, he wrote one last message and left. 

Bonnie looked up at the board and had to laugh. In thick, white lines he'd proclaimed: _Cheese is good. _

~+~+~+~

Vala had forgotten the simple pleasures of life. She'd forgotten what it felt like to dance with someone you truly cared about, to feel the wind blow across your face and ruffle your clothes, to lie in wet grass and stargaze… your head resting on the chest of a dear friend and lover. But lover is a very broad term--it's used to define close friends and distant relations you get together with every Friday night to party and drink and wake up next to come morning, wondering where you are and what you've done. 

"Look, there's Ursa Minor," Vala pointed out.

"Which is the equivalence of the Little Dipper," Sirius replied with a smirk.

"The Little Dipper is not a constellation, Sirius, it's an asterism."

"What's the difference?" he asked, the smirk washing away. 

"An asterism is a distinct group of stars… Like the Big Dipper, which is really called Ursa Major. The Little Dipper is kind of like a slang name… Ursa Minor is its proper name," she explained.

"Oh."

"I thought everyone knew that," she said with a touch of shock. 

"I never took much interest in astronomy, to be honest," he replied, not embarrassed in the least. Back in his fifth year he and James had to decide between Astronomy and Divination. On one hand they had some old crone rattle on about stars and constellations and forgotten tales nobody really cared about, on the other they had some old bugger who limped around the castle mumbling old blues lyrics under his breath and occasionally accusing the House Elves of theft. The crone was stern and had the icy stare of a rattlesnake, the bugger was somewhat paranoid, practically deaf, and kept a flask of Firewhiskey in his hip pocket. If nothing else, you could watch him fall into a drunken rage where he trotted around the tower shouting death omens at the most unlikely victims. Which would you choose? Yeah, they picked Divinations too. 

"I never would have guessed," she replied lightly. "There's Orion," she said, shifting her head on Sirius' chest. "See those three stars together? That's his belt."

"Hmm… didn't his girlfriend kill him or something?"

"Diana? Not purposely. She was a brilliant huntress and her brother tricked her into shooting him."

"Why would he do a thing like that?" 

"Because he was a paranoid little bastard and probably thought her boyfriend would impregnate her and skip out before the child's birth," Vala answered with an ounce of sarcasm.

"That's not true," Sirius declared, and after a moment of uncertainty followed, "Is it?"

She shook her head. "Not entirely. Diana was a virgin, and he was protecting her virginity." 

"Oh…" Sirius rose an eyebrow. He'd heard of protective older brothers, but that just took the cake. "So he had his sister kill him? That's a touch traumatizing."

"Well," she shifted again. "Really there's two stories… the one where Diana was tricked into killing him and the other where he sent Scorpio after Orion."

"Then Scorpio killed him?"

"I tend to lean more towards that tale," she replied, then added as an afterthought, "They're placed at opposite sides of the sky, you know."

"I didn't, but I like that one better."

"Yeah… hey, did you know Orion had two hunting dogs?"

"No, are they up there too?" he asked curiously. 

"Of course. Here, see that star there?"

"Where?"

"Okay, the three stars in Orion's belt point right to it. See that star right there? That real bright one?" 

"Um… Yes, now I do," he answered, still uncertain. 

"Good, that's the chest of one of his dogs--Canis Major. There's another one nearby called Canis Minor, but I really couldn't pinpoint it for you, I'm afraid."

"That's alright. Tell me more about this one." Astronomy was a boring subject indeed, and you were lucky to escape it with a two-pence train of thought. However, there were upsides to the subject. One being that it impressed the ladies, but this plus side worked in two ways because for once Sirius found he was intrigued by what a woman had to say about the stars. It was a dry subject, but Vala's passion for astronomy seemed to rub off her and intoxicate Sirius. For once, he felt more than lust. 

"Well, Canis Major is made up of twelve stars, and unlike several other constellations it actually _looks _like what it's named after… Hmm… You'll like this, you know that star I pointed out to you? The bright one?"

"Yes," he answered, gazing thoughtfully at the sky. He found that he would be interested in anything she had to say, no matter how boring it appeared. She could talk about the life span of lightning bugs, and he'd be interested. 

"Guess its name."

Sirius wrinkled his brow, searching for some typical Latin name. He was Einstein with a comb and style when it came to foreign foods, but quite the contrary when it came to languages. "I'm… not sure."

"Sirius. Often called the Dog Star," she said with a smile. She rolled over to face him. "It's the brightest star in the sky. Ironic that you should have so much in common." Before he could comment, she sat upright and pulled herself to her feet. "But enough of this, it's getting cold." She held a hand out for him. "We should be getting back--I don't like leaving Buckbeak all alone all this time."

Sirius took her hand, but he wasn't ready to go back. He wanted to hear more about the stars. Bugger that. He wanted to lie idly across the grass, feeling the weight of her head on his chest and listen to her voice. "He can make it alone," Sirius replied, catching his tongue too late. Momentarily caught off beat, he fell back into step. "The night's still young, we've got time to kill." He spun away from her, his arms open to greet the world in one big welcoming hug. "There's things to see, things to do…"

A soft smile powdered Vala's lips. "Sirius," she said, touching his arm and turning him to look at her. "The night is young, but so are we… there will be a tomorrow." 

His shoulders drooped. There would be no tomorrow--Vala was leaving him tomorrow. How could a tomorrow exist without her? 

"Come on, let's go back." Gently swinging an arm across his shoulder, she guided him back to the cave.

~+~+~+~

Romulus swept through Hogsmeade, potions concealed inside his cloak and weapons tied to his ankles and forearms. He was a man who prepared for the worst, but nothing could possibly have prepared him for what was about to happen. 

~+~+~+~

"You shouldn't have to lie on the rocks."

Vala spared a glance for Sirius as she made to sit down. "Why is that?"

He moved in next to her and sat down. He opened his arms for her. "Here, lie on my chest, I'm used to it." 

She brushed some pebbles away, and sat down. She lied down, propping herself up on her elbows, and looked to him. Sirius dropped his arms and rolled on his side to face her. "Which is why I should," she said.

He wrinkled his brow. 

Vala couldn't say why, but if Sirius were a dog she could imagine him with perky little ears and an expression that simple said, _What's going on?_ She had an urge to ruffle his hair, but contained herself. "Come here," she said, beckoning him to rest down on her. Obediently, like a good dog does, he moved closer and set his head on her chest. Gently, she wrapped one arm around him and rest her other hand on his head, smoothing his hair back. 

Sirius closed his eyes soothingly, feeling the smooth intake of breath beneath him. Feeling life. 

At length, Vala asked softly, "Do you remember the past, Sirius?"

"Mm Hmm," he answered in a slight hum. 

"Those were real magical days, weren't they?"

He thought back, stirring up past memories. "They were sad," he said, eventually.

"Every day has its toils and struggles, but… you made it what it was. I really loved you guys--You were like brothers to me. I lost my family, and you guys took me in, simple as that, as if it was nothing."

Sirius' eyes were open now, listening to what Vala was saying. 

"Did you ever think once of the danger I could have put on you?"

"Yes," he said and he bent his head to look up into her eyes. "But we had bigger concerns. You'd just lost your family to Death Eaters and Voldemort was still at large."

"And that never phased you?" she asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

Sirius grinned. "It made things more exciting."

She smiled, and he shifted back into position. She lied in a reflective silence, brushing Sirius' hair back and recalling past experiences and questions. Finally, she took the dive. "Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"What was it like escaping Azkaban?"

His breath caught for a moment, but soon fell back into place. "It was… like seeing the sun for the first time." He paused then added, "It's hard to explain, really."

"No," Vala replied, "I think I understand… it's like breathing fresh air for the first time in years."

"Yes," he agreed. "And feeling lush, green grass under you."

"The music of the birds," she continued, "A cool summer breeze."

Sirius sighed. "It really makes you appreciate the simple things in life."

"Yes, it does… and I'm not willing to give it back."

Sirius shifted to look up at her, but at that exact moment they heard Buckbeak ruffle his feathers, sending a heavy glare at the cave's entrance. Sirius watched him for a full heart beat before rolling over and unto his feet. Crouching low, he narrowed his eyes, inching backwards. Vala stared out into the night until a black-clad figure swept in front of her view. 

__

(A/N: Dedicated to my dear friend Ren, who suggested the song to me and turned out to be a great idea. Love ya, Ren!

Sorry guys… I was just told today I'm spending the rest of the week with my sister… so I'll be back Monday, and I feel horrible about leaving the story here, but the next chapter is hardly started and it's not worth the rush to post crap. Well, I love you and thanks for giving me so much of your patience!)


	41. Ironic

Ironic

__

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you

When you think everything's okay and everything's going right

And life has a funny way of helping you out when

You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up

In your face

A mahogany wand with a Norwegian Ridgeback core was swung in Vala's direction, and Romulus smiled. 

"I haven't got all night, lover."

Vala glimpsed over her shoulder, and missed Sirius. "Why not? Got appointments set up?" she asked in mild curiosity, scrambling to draw herself up. "You must be a very busy man…" she trailed as a low growl rolled over her. A creature slunk forward, vibrating and baring teeth. His eyes glowed a vicious tawny as he stepped over the figure of Vala. 

Romulus narrowed his eyes, his lips thinning. Tilting his head to better peer at the beast, he redirected his aim.

Vala's gaze shifted from Romulus to Padfoot. It was possible that there was a back entrance to the cave, but whatever the case, the beast was neither friend nor foe—but a guardian. Suddenly understanding what Fae meant; she lunged forward, grabbing the dog's hindquarters and dragging him to the ground. 

"No," she shrieked, "Stay back!"

The dog whined, and Vala dragged herself to her feet. "Get back," she commanded, pointing behind her. The dog, crouching low, crawled back to a corner. She didn't need a guardian anymore. She could, and she would, take care of herself. 

Romulus wiped his brow; he was mere acquaintance with the Killing Curse. He had no intention of using it any time soon, but another near attack like that, and he might just snap. 

"Let's cut the dramatics," she said mildly, stepping forward, "We both know why you're here." She held her hands out for him. 

Romulus hesitated.

"Your employer is waiting," she said smoothly, slipping a smile.

He squared his shoulders and pointed his wand at her wrists. Ropes shot from its point and wrapped themselves in a tight knot, which he tugged on for leverage. He arched an eyebrow. "Right then, let's go." 

If Vala had thought to check, she would have seen that the card in her pocket was drastically jumping backwards. _-3… -6… -9… -12…_

~+~+~+~

Romulus marched Vala through Hogsmeade.

"I dread Saxon would be sound asleep at this hour," Vala inserted slyly. 

"That may be so, but he does not pay the piper," Romulus replied casually, looping the rope around his belt. 

__

He isn't? A brief moment of uncertainty crossed her features, but she soon wiped her face of expression and squared her shoulders back. "Of course. And who pays this musician for his sorrowful melody?"

Romulus half-turned to stare at his captive. "Don't be stupid," he said, "This melody has well turned into an opera." He shook his head and continued on his way.

"Ah," she replied with a wisp of sarcasm. "How moronic of I… me… I," she furrowed her brow and cursed, "Damn."

"Me."

"Ah yes," she answered with raised eyebrows. "The Lupin Brothers always have been on a high grammatical pedestal for all to praise."

__

-15… -18… 

"Don't call me that—I don't have a brother."

"Really? A thousand apologies… I had always suspected that perhaps you learned your way of speech from the mistresses of grade school."

__

-21… -24… -27…

Romulus' step hitched. He swung around. "Come again?"

"The mistresses of grade school," she repeated with a tone that suggested it was a well-known phrase. 

"I heard you well enough," he snapped, "What did you mean by it?"

"Nothing," she answered with bright eyes sparkling with false innocence. 

Narrowing his eyes, he summed her up. He quickly realized he was wasting his time and retreated with a scowl. It hadn't bothered him that she accused him of attending grade school; it was that he had. 

His mother had thought it important that he get a proper education before Wizarding School. Though later he suspected she might have encouraged it because of Remus. _'No good in wasting five years playing and goofing off when they could be learning good, useful things like Mathematics and Logic,'_ she used to say, and then she would add, _'Not enough wizards have good, quality logic anymore. All wrapped up in magic--couldn't see an ounce of logic if it danced naked in front of them with 'Logic' tattooed all over its body in techno-bright colors… and a **poodle skirt**.' _

His mother had always loathed poodle skirts; Romulus could never quite understand why. Sure, they were ridiculous--and ugly on top of that--but that was no reason to hate them. Of course, his father would always suggest, _'Perhaps if the little white poodle barked 'Logic!' they'd notice it? You know… magically?'_

His father had been a bit of a smart-ass, in his own. Well, not so much a smart-ass as slightly silly. He had his moments anyway… Generally he was seen as the strict one of the family. Well, not strict, just slightly reserved… actually, a total social-reject. He had his family, and that's all he needed. Remus was like that in certain respects… He had a _general _care for everyone, but he never held quite the same kind of love and respect for anyone like he did for his family. 

Another pang of guilt struck Romulus and silence blanketed them both—even their steps were muffled and distant. 

Vala followed in biting debate. A line was strung between her and Malfoy Mansion. Now she had two choices. She could carefully tiptoe this line and meet her death at its end, or she could daringly somersault her way across it. Both ended in her death, one more literal than the other. Malfoy Mansion brought binds and laws; Romulus held strength and a limited supply of patience. 

She took a metaphorical step back and prepared herself to metaphorically flip. 

"Did you know the founder of Rome was named Romulus?" she asked conversationally, stepping lightly behind him, her feet ringing with the care of a rapt listener. 

__

-30… -33… -36…

"No." He replied, rubbing his hands slightly. Romulus Lupin was a smart man, a very smart one indeed, but he hadn't wasted his time with history. What happened was dead, and he was set on the future; it's only a pity that he made many of the same mistakes over and over again—possibly his greatest flaw in character. 

"He was a brilliant man," she added, "It was named after him… Curious that you should share his name."

"Curious indeed," he replied, humoring her. Normally he wouldn't, but he was in a mood. He'd felt guilt before, and he was good at ignoring it. He was good at ignoring a lot of things. One might say he was passive aggressive--he wasn't--he just wasn't one to toss out an entire ice cream sundae because one fly was stuck in it. He had to look on the bright side of things--the night was clear, the stars were shining, he'd just caught his most troublesome creature of interest, and now he was headed to collect his pay. Not that the first two interested him much, but the latter were definitely aligned with his taste of things. And to top things off, he didn't even have to assassinate anyone. Now that was something he really cared about. All the work and none of the sweat. What a sweet world we live in.

He was feeling good, and subconsciously, he added a bounce to his step. He could hum. If he liked humming and Beethoven's Fifth Symphony didn't sound totally butchered and barely recognizable in a whistle, or at worst, he knew some industrial pop tunes. 

"He had a brother," she added carefully. "He was a good man too."

"Oh? What's his story?"

"As legends are handed down, variations exist. Some say he was injured and cured by a She-Wolf, others say he was raised by wolves, but some say… and this is a select few indeed, say he _was_ a wolf."

The bounce ceased. "A wolf?"

"It's only a legend," she responded nonchalantly. "I believe the correct term would be He-Wolf or perhaps even _Were_wolf." 

__

-39… -42… -45…

The atmosphere thickened. He paused, his eyes set ahead but unfocused. "Werewolves are real," he said, breaking the spell. 

"I'm well aware, but the suggestion that the founder of Rome was a werewolf seems quite ludicrous to me."

He stopped again and took the time to peer back at her. "The founder? You said Romulus was the founder of Rome."

"Well, he was."

"Then why did you say his brother, the werewolf, was the founder?"

"Because he was." Vala gave this a moment to digest, and when Romulus looked no further along to understanding, she added, "They _both _found Rome."

"Ah." He continued his march towards glory. "Why's it named Rome? After Romulus, you said, but why only Romulus? His brother founded it as well."

"Because Romulus killed his brother."

"Ah, and that's why it would be ludicrous that he—what's his name?—would be a werewolf?"

"Precisely. I don't know if you've ever met a werewolf, but I have, and they are tricky bastards. Always well accustomed to their surroundings, those unfortunates. Besides," she smiled slickly, "Visiting Rome sounds much more romantic than visiting—oh, I don't know— Remé."

"Remé? What was his name?"

"Remus."

All moisture in Romulus' throat evaporated in an instant. The need to hum, the bounce in his step--all gone. He stood stock-still, his eyes glazing and his mind screaming. 

Vala drew herself nearer. "Yes," she breathed into his ear. "Once Romulus wiped the blood from his hands, he denied having a brother as well." 

__

-48… -51… -54… -57

~+~+~+~

"To the Queen!"

"To the Queen!"

"To the Queen!"

"To the Minister!"

Seth, Napoleon and Bill slowly turned their heads to stare at Ben, subconsciously lowering their bottles of beer. They had drank a lot, and had well lost count, but they weren't _that_ drunk. 

"The Minister?" Bill asked.

"Man's got good taste in clothes," Ben claimed, "Gotta respect a man like that."

"He wears a lime green bowler hat…" Napoleon trailed, all grasp of respect for Ben slipping away.

"And not only a bowler hat, but a lime green one…" Seth followed.

"The Italian Mafia wear bowler hats," Bill added, throwing in a well-known fact or two for taste. 

"And everyone respects their style!" Ben cheered, holding up his beer again.

The other three did not follow.

"The Italian Mafia kill people," Seth said hollowly.

"They're into bribery as well," Napoleon added.

"They wear bowler hats," Bill finished, shuttering for some more spice in their big social chili bowl. 

"Seems old Fudge has more in common with them than we thought!" Ben cheered again, raising his drink for another toast.

Seth shrugged. "I'll drink to that."

"True dat," Napoleon followed.

"Kill the Brits!" Bill yelled, attempting to add some color to their chili--possibly even a few more beans. He wasn't drunk enough to toast the Minister, but he sure was drunk enough to forget he was British. Ah hell, it's all forgotten in the end. 

"Cheers!" They all screamed in unison, smacking bottles and drinking the fizz and overflowing beer. 

~+~+~+~

"I've had quite enough of your lip, little girl," Romulus snapped, clasping her hand on his shoulder and swinging to face her. "How Remus ever put you up is beyond me."

"So you admit it!"

__

-57… -60…

"I admit nothing," he sneered, squeezing her fingers. She felt slightly weak in the knees at the sound of her own knuckles crunching. 

"Do you enjoy pain?" she squeaked. 

__

-60… -57…

He released her hand and blinked. "What?" It wasn't a commonly asked question, and he was truly shocked. 

"You shunned your brother all your life…" she stated quietly, bowing her head and gently rubbing the feeling back into her hand. "You consciously pushed him out of your life--your own flesh and blood--your brother. Knowing he's had the same treatment his entire life, from strangers and peers alike… Looking back, doesn't that bother you? Don't you ever wonder what might have been…? He found friends who accepted him for what he was--did you?" she asked, her eyes shifting to peer into his. 

__

-57…

A flash of doubt crossed him. "No," he said, darkness biting at the edges of his voice. He turned away and tugged on the string. "Let's go."

"What's the hurry?" she asked irritably, shrugging her shoulders. "We've got all night." _How dare he just shrug him off,_ her mind screamed. But she knew it wasn't true. She knew somewhere, somewhere deep and dark, she'd touched Romulus. Despite his best efforts, he'd never been able to fully forget his shunned brother. It's most probable, though also doubted by most, that he felt a small spark of pity for Remus. And next to that spark, maybe he felt insecurity… and next to that, possibly even a small portion of sorrow existed for his lost relation. 

Romulus took a distinct turn away from the road leading to Malfoy Mansion.

Vala wrinkled her brow. "Where are we going?" she asked, all irritation ebbing away. 

"I told you, Saxon is not employing me."

"Oh," she'd forgotten. Her eyes still locked on the long road leading to her previous house, she acknowledged a subconscious thought. "Yes, but surely anyone rich enough to employ you would be linked with the Malfoys."

"I may be the best, Vala Amoureux, but no one ever said my rates were high." 

__

-54… -51… -48…


	42. Wrong Way

Wrong Way

__

The only family that she's ever had

Is her seven horny brothers and a drunk-ass dad

He needed money so he put her on the street

Everything was going fine until the day she met me

Happy are you sad, wanna shoot your dad

I'll do anything I can

It's the wrong way

"Solitaire…" Gale breathed, the syllables tumbling over her tongue. "It is a sad sort of name. Lonely." The Solitaires were not a small family, quite the contrary. Gale was one of seven, and she was the middle child. Romulus never did understand what her childhood was like. He did not understand the business of a big family, the activity of a large family, the love and the hate… Romulus did not understand a lot of things, but he did understand the hate. 

Gale raised her family. Her mother had died when she was ten, and she had taken care of the family since. That is a hard burden to carry, for anyone, but especially a ten-year-old girl. She cooked the meals, helped her younger brothers with their homework, kept her older brothers out of trouble, and tucked her father in every night. 

After her mother's death, her father climbed into a rum bottle and never had the energy or will to crawl out again. Every night he came home, two or later, and crashed on the sofa. Gale was in bed by eleven, but kept an alarm clock by her bedside. When the clock rung two, she woke up, and waited to hear the crush of cushions and springs. Ten more minutes would pass, and snores would emerge. Careful not to make a sound, she would creep into the living room and cover her father with a thick, wool blanket. 

By the age of fifteen, Gale was working a full-time job. When she wasn't working, she was cleaning and cooking. Gale ran away when she was eighteen. Eighteen is not the average age to run away, but if she hadn't, then she never would have gotten out. 

Her family had stolen her childhood away from her. She could never go to school, she could never go out with friends, and she could never be a child. And worst of all, the clincher of them all, she could never get revenge. Revenge is a bitch, but Dark Arts family's often breed dark thoughts, and Gale was right in the middle of it. She'd grown and watched the boys she'd raise turn into lying, thieving Death Eaters. She'd seen them leave every evening and swear their souls away, and then return with an empty stare in their eyes. There was no more love; there was no more care. And she'd given up.

She was nineteen now. She'd spent the last year of her life hanging around the wrong crowds, partying every evening, meeting up with a guy every night. There was still a pain, but she was numb to it. Whenever she felt it creeping around again, she inhaled a joint, downed a shot--anything that helped her forget her problems. And the men, oh the guys she met. She had a sex life of fire and brimstone, and was all the more experienced for it. She was tramp, and she knew it. But it had never bothered her until now… Now she knew Romulus. Now she was devoted to one man, now she knew love. 

He knew the pain she felt. He was despondent, dejected, and most of all, he was alone. He needed someone--just as much as she needed someone. And somehow, somehow in the cosmic love affair of life, they needed each other. 

And he could get her revenge. Not against her family, that was impossible, but against someone else--_through_ someone else. 

~+~+~+~

"Clyde! My man!"

Clyde made exhausted hand motions, and dropped his hat on the coat stand. Pulling off his coat, he continued the signals. 

"My bad," Seth apologized, and leaned towards Ben. Whispering, "What'd he say? I wasn't watchin'."

Ben swiveled his eyes to meet Seth's. "Di'n cech…" he slurred. 

"Work talk," Napoleon answered, "Clyde's work talk, Navarre's unwork talk." Not that Napoleon frequently knew what Navarre was saying, but the mute was decent enough to regularize his signs.

Navarre nodded as he loosened his tie. He knew sign language, quite fluently, but what was the use if nobody could translate it? He resorted to notepads and simple hand gestures. Taking a seat, he tossed a pack of cards on the table. 

"Uh gema?" Ben asked with inquiring eyebrows.

"A _game!_" Napoleon corrected, slapping the table, "It's pronounced _game!_ Damn, brother."

"Hehe…" Ben giggled. "Gots muh A's and E's mixed… heh. Ahh…. An' Uhh…" 

"Right-o, Dog."

Ben frowned. "I em humen now."

Napoleon threw his hands up in exasperation and turned towards Navarre. "You hold the deck--what game?"

Seth was intently eyeing Ben, slowing working out the scene. "You got your A's and E's mixed?"

"Navar."

Navarre glanced at Ben and lifted his hand. He waved his finger in a circle and then brought the same finger across his throat in one swift movement. 

"Circle of Death!" Bill exclaimed loudly, jumping up with a triumphant swing at the air. 

Navarre nodded, his eyes shifting periodically from Bill to Ben. He unsheathed the cards, and began shuffling. 

"Straight up!" Bill cheered, sitting back to beam. 

Napoleon grabbed a shot glass from the nearest counter, and slammed it in the middle of the table, lip down. Navarre stood and spread the cards in a circle around it, face down. Seth strolled to the refrigerator, and retrieved five new long necks. He passed the beer around, and the game began. 

~+~+~+~

Romulus had walked a hundred miles in his shoes, and now he was just as old and worn as they. 

Gale had kept him up the night before, pounding her entire life story into his head. When she had finally stopped, the sun rose over a cold gray morning, and even the freezing, hazy mist had seemed more inviting than other evening with Gale. He found some time during the day to catch some sleep, but as soon as the showers came, he was out again. The night was used for tracking, and though he was lucky to find his prey, he was also unlucky. He half-hoped he'd be empty-handed by morning and could slither home, where he could waste the day away with sleeping. He was exhausted, and Vala only wore him thinner. 

And though sleep called on him with strong, demanding voices, he carried on, and the small, meek voice of Gale continued to resound in his mind. 

"Who, then?" Vala asked, for what seemed the millionth time. How could anyone stand her? Least of all a Malfoy. Ah, but old habits die hard, and Malfoys were never taught the graces of losing. But Romulus was no better. As a young boy he was taught to love and to care, and in consequence--listen. And what Gale had said to him could never leave. 

"She wants revenge," he whispered, if only to himself, "And I will give it to her."

~+~+~+~

Circle of Death is an easy game. Several versions of the game exist, but whatever the rules, the only existing purpose is to intoxicate young adults and underage teens everywhere. All 52 cards of a deck are laid in a spiral around an upside down shot-glass. Each player picks up a card, and depending on the face value, a consequence is gained. The version the James Gang adopted was played like this: seven and lowers can be "given away" to someone else, and they must take gulps of alcohol corresponding with the card number; Eight to ten's must be kept for the drawer; Jack's are Thumb Masters; Queen's are Rule Keepers; King's are Questionnaires; and Aces are Waterfall. 

Currently Bill was Questionnaire, which meant anyone who answered any questions he asked had to swig their drink. Ben was Thumb Master. And Navarre had just pulled a Waterfall, which means everyone must start chugging at the same time and the player on Navarre's left cannot stop drinking until Navarre does, and so on. 

Ah yes, and once you are finished with your card, you must set it on top of the upside down shot glass. The game finally ends when someone either knocks the cards off, who must immediately finish his beer, or all the cards are drawn. 

Napoleon gave the circle a steady look-around and drew a card. After glancing at it, he reclined back with his arms behind his head. "Rule Keeper, bitch!" he announced, slapping the Queen on the table. Once you were given a title, you kept it until another player drew the same one. "Leader of a nation," he smirked, turning to Bill.

Bill thought for a moment, a distant shine to his eyes. Bolting upright, "The Queen!"

"Which one?" Seth prompted.

Bill stared at him with sparkly eyes. Slowly, he rose his glass and cheered, "To the Queen!"

"Ah…" Seth trailed, and they all followed suit. "To the Queen!"

"To the Queen!"

"To the Minister!"

And a salute from Navarre. 

"Ben," Napoleon nodded.

"Oh, uh… Right on the tip of my tongue… hehe… Tony Blair!" 

"Seth?"

"Adolf Hitler."

"Interesting choice. Navarre?"

The mute scribbled across a scrap of paper and handed it to Napoleon. 

"'Julius Caeser,'" he smiled. "And I pick my grandfather--Napoleon."

Ben's eyebrow wrinkled, and very slowly with great thought he said, "Your grand dad isn't Napoleon…"

"'Course he was. Who did you think I was named after?"

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, brother, but Napoleon's been dead for hundreds of years." 

"Not directly, fool! He's a few generations back." Napoleon seemed content with this and sat back.

"But Napoleon, you're-" Ben began, but cut himself short as Seth hurriedly shook his head in the negative persuasion. 

"Shit, why else do you think I sleep with Monalisa above my headboard?" he asked, gazing distantly at a dusty corner in the ceiling. 

Seth's urging was all in vain--Ben couldn't help himself. "You do what?"

"Sleep with the painting of Monalisa above my headboard," he repeated, directing his gaze back to Ben. "Been handed down for generations."

"The tradition?"

"The painting, you Squib."

Ben shook his head. "I'm lost."

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. "In France, there is an art museum--The Louvee. It has most of the world's most famous. Napoleon lived there for a number of years. A painting--Monalisa--was kept hung above his headboard."

"And come World War II when the Naxis invaded France," Napoleon took over, imparting a little World History. "The French feared the paintings would be stolen or destroyed, so they hid them--in the homes and cellars of brothers like you and me. After the war ended, most of the paintings came back."

"Most, but not all," Seth finished, hearing the history of the Louvee one too many times.

"That's exactly right, my man! And that painting is hanging over my bed!"

"That can't be right," Ben interrupted. "The painting's in some posh museum."

"The Louvee," Napoleon clarified. "And no it isn't. That, my friend, is a well made copy--the best money can make. As if my grandfather would return something as precious as Monalisa." 

Navarre scratched heavily across a piece of parchment and waved it under Napoleon's nose.

"'Bugger that, let's get on with the game, you sobered bastards.' Navarre! I'm shocked!" Navarre replied with a one-fingered gesture, and Napoleon carried on, "Alright then. Bill, your turn." And without a second thought on the current discussion, they feel back into the game. 

"Cleopatra… Mmm."

"Ew," Ben followed up, "Marc Antony." 

Seth opened his mouth to answer, and closed it again. He opened his mouth a second time, and paused. Finally, he answered, "Jesus."

A silence blanketed the drinkers. 

"Did you really just say, 'Jesus'?" Bill smirked.

"Jesus wasn't the leader of a nation," Ben followed.

"The fuck he wasn't."

"Well, he wasn't."

Seth slapped the table, "Jesus lead a nation of Christians, you heathen bastard!" 

"I'll have you know I am a born Catholic," Ben said with pride.

"Born into Catholicism and living it are two separate things, you incompetent pagan."

Ben crossed his arms. "That's religious discrimination, I'll have you know, you… you… Hitler lover!"

Seth stared aghast. At length, "Hitler lover?"

"You said Hitler was a leader of a nation!"

"He bloody well was!"

"Discrimination against Jews!"

Again, Seth's features fell blank as he stared at Ben's threatening advances. "You're trippin', brother," he confirmed sitting back. 

Everyone, Navarre most of all, kept their eyes to themselves.

Finally, as a half whisper, Ben said, "Drink."

Seth denied his mind of his ear's proof. "Excuse me?"

"Bloody Jesus? Fuckin' drink!"

"Fuck you!" Seth gave his friend a look of disbelief and stubbornness. 

"Leader of Christians or not, Jesus was not the bloody leader of a nation! Caeser Augustus, Cleopatra, Marc Antony--even Napoleon--all reasonable answers! But bloody Jesus? Bugger _that!_"

Seth bolted to his feet, and smacked the shot glass. A crash indicated it cracking against the wall and falling in jagged jigsaws across the floor, the cards raining down around it. "No, bugger _this!_ Bugger this _game! _Bugger **_you!_**"

Ben leapt to his feet just as quickly. "No, bugger you!"

Finally, Napoleon unfolded into his strong, persuading 6'2'' self. He placed a calming hand against his brother and friend. "Now, now… cool down, brothers. We could argue till day's breaking about what our Lord did and didn't do, but I know just as well as you that it's all in vain. You're both hard-headed, stubborn buggers, and I'll be damned if either of you ever believes what the other says."

"Bugger that," Ben cursed, smacking Napoleon's hand from him. He circled around the table. "I sit around this bloody hellhole and take your bloody orders and like a bloody dog I skip out and follow along with everything you bloody well say. I'm not a fucking dog, I'm living human being, and you, well you can just bloody well bugger that." And like a true intoxicated fool, he grabbed his hat and left. 

"An enraged Billy the Kid," Napoleon cursed. "Great one, Seth, that's just what the town needs."

_(A/N: I love you, I love you, I love you!!! Please forgive me! Sorry… I took a month or two off. Not intentionally, but I was rather busy with the new school year and everything. Actually, I really shouldn't be writing this now because I have a lot of homework to do… of course, I'm sure you shouldn't be reading this right now for the exact same reason. Well, I'm extremely sorry for my idolness, but I hope to make it up to you. -Vouivre)_


	43. Peace of Mind

Peace of Mind

__

I understand about indecision  
But I don't care if I get behind  
People livin' in competition  
All I want is to have my peace of mind.  


A dark, gloomy bar loomed in front of them. Well, it didn't exactly _loom_--as it was a small, dirty kind of tavern--but in Vala's current state of curiosity it seemed to loom. 

Her eyes fell to the sign. It was ugly and awkwardly carved, but she recognized the name. 

"The_ Hog's Head?_"

"Save the matter of hygiene, it's quite enjoyable," Romulus replied. "Why, I believe a couple can lay low, completely out of view, and conspire together while the city rolls on." Without a backward glance, he stepped under the sign. "Join me for a drink, why don't you." It wasn't a question so much as a statement. 

Vala stared at the sign; it was a hog's head served on a platter, blood carved into the woodwork. It was absolutely disgusting. She felt Romulus tug lightly on the string, and followed him under the archway. 

Few people gave her mind, as she stepped through the gloom, her wrists thrust forward and bound together; the silver lead disappearing into Romulus' robes. Hooded figures watched them as they proceeded towards the bar. 

"A scotch for me, and a Dark Mark Martini for the lady," he said to the bartender, as casual as ever. 

The bartender slammed a whiskey and a beer on the counter. 

Romulus stared at them, his expression natural and keen. "I asked for a scotch," he said. "And a Martini."

"Fresh out of scotch," the man said with a voice like sandpaper, "And don't serve that fairy crap." He pronounced fairy with a certain amount of distaste. 

"The Equal Rights Guild would be interested in hearing that slur of yours," Romulus replied, "And of course the Ministry would always be interested in a look around the place."

"Empty threats," he rasped. "Ministry don't scare us here."

"No, I suppose they don't… I'm sure you have more pressing problems than those issued from the Ministry," he said understandingly and kindly, which somehow made him seem more threatening. He tucked something in his pocket, and then locked eyes with the bartender. "Though, things could get very ugly in here, very fast, if I don't receive what I ordered." 

Something changed in the atmosphere. The bartender had seen something that Vala had missed. His eyes were wide, and a large brute of a man dropped a hairy hand on Romulus' shoulder. 

"Iz ther a probl'm 'ere?" he rumbled.

"No, no," the bartender hurried, "Go back to your station, Goliath." 

"Yis, sir."

"Scotch was that?" the man asked, hustling himself. 

"Yes, and a Dark Mark Martini," he smiled graciously. 

The man nodded and pulled on a ragged coat. "Right, I will only be a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable." 

"Don't forget the cherries!" Romulus yelled after the man. "He'll be a bit," he informed Vala, gingerly lifting the Whiskey bottle. 

Vala stared aghast. "What did you do?" she whispered, against her better judgement but according to her extreme curiosity.

Romulus drank straight from the bottle, and recapped it upon setting it down on the counter. "Hmm? Ah," and he smirked. "Are you a religious person, Miss. Amoureux?" he asked.

"What?" she moved back. What kind of answer was that? "No, no I'm not." Religion had been lost a long time ago. 

"When Cain killed Able, God marked him so that no man would harm him." He smiled a sad smile and finished, "I'm a marked man, Vala, and others can sense it."

He spoke so knowingly, and yet… he seemed so sad. Like she, he was another pawn in the Game of Life. No matter how he tried, he fell short, and lost. She began to pity him. His life wasn't full of glitter, after all. 

"Excuse me," he said quietly, getting up.

She watched him leave the room. Cain and Able. Her father once read that story to her. She wondered if his father had ever read to him. And then she remembered the Bible her father had read from; a white leather-bond one trimmed with gold. It had been a Wedding present for her parents. Vala should have inherited it, but it was licked up with the fire that destroyed her home. Old memories she thought she'd blocked out, returned in a frenzy. Regrets should have left her a long time ago, but she'd kept things bottled up for too long, and now the bottle was about to split. 

In aggressive clawing, she pulled her robes up around her thighs, and ripped the guarder--once and for all. Unscrewing the cap to the Whiskey, and biting the stopper out of an old bottle, she gulped the Whiskey and then emptied an old potion's bottle into what remained of the toxic drink. She sloshed the Whiskey around and slammed it unto the counter before Romulus returned. 

She turned in her seat, glancing around--Romulus was no where to be seen. She wondered where he'd gone. Her eyes had fogged with memories, and she'd missed it. Something smacked against the door, and in another instant it was ripped open. A man was thrown in, and in a haphazardly way, skidded to a halt. 

"Behind the bar," she heard Romulus command. 

The man scurried to his feet and hurried behind the bar. 

Vala stared. Romulus adjusted his robes and overcoat, straightening and dusting them off. He took his seat next to Vala, and cool as can be, said, "My apologies, love, our friend here thought he'd pull a quick one." 

"D-D-D-"

"Yes," Romulus confirmed. He stood again. "Forget the drink," and lifting the Whiskey, he walked towards a corner, pulling Vala behind him. 

She nearly fell from her seat, following him, but once she regained her balance she redirected her attention. Romulus led her to a dusty corner, and a staircase apparated. 

~+~+~+~

He'd be back soon. She glanced around the small room. Was this what she really wanted? It was hard to say. She had Romulus, and she supposed that was all that mattered. But somehow, somewhere deep down, it seemed things should be different. It seemed like she was missing something. 

The door appropriately creaked, and she glanced up.

~+~+~+~

"_Gale? _That's who hired you? Gale _Solitaire_?"

Slowly, Gale rose to her feet. Carefully and dignitly unfolding her slender body to a fragile stance. Her blonde curls slipped across her shoulders, the early rays of morning shining through. It made her glow. And Vala hated her. A deep and foreign disgust, that arose within all women at the sight of her. 

Her long, thick eyelashes beat twice, and finally she spoke. "Vala."

Vala's eyebrows drew in hatred, Romulus drew near. Her lead pulled forward, and the disgust was pulled from her face as she tripped forward. She caught her balance, and a look of dismay fell across her. 

Gale stepped forward, interest intertwining with her posture. She touched Vala's hair, straightening and smoothing it. Softly, she sang to herself. "You can play the game and you can act out the part…" A breathy type of whisper, which played out in a bittersweet symphony throughout her mind. "Though you know it wasn't written for you." 

She paused, her hand raised, mid stroke. A tear crystallized in her eye, and she swung away. She streamed to the bed, pulled the covers back, and motioned Vala to them. She blinked in correspondence, and for the first time Vala realized she was exhausted. Fight as she will, she obliged. In a trance, she lay down, tugged the sheets to her chin, and felt Romulus cut the lead. 

  
  
  



	44. Roll With the Changes

Roll With the Changes

__

soon as you are able  
Woman I am willing  
To make the break that we  
Are on the brink of  
My cup is on the table  
Our love is spilling  
Waiting here for you to  
Take and drink of

"I hate this life," she huffed, crossing her arms. 

"There's love," he replied, touching her arm and leaning forward. 

"What is love?" she asked, pulling away. "Other than an excuse to indulge in guilty pleasures, to lie and scheme, and proclaim it all in the name of love? What is it? Other than an excuse?"

"Love is simple."

"Love is ridiculous," she concluded, turning her back to him. "Love is forgetting all other commitments. Love is hurtful." She spoke with spiteful experience, and the ache of past relationships cut her speech into jagged shapes. 

"Love is understanding," he whispered, moving closer. His voice wrapped itself around her, soothing her, comforting her. "Love is feeling your pain… your heart break."

Vala sighed, and faced him. Her arms dropped in defeat. "You were never there to piece me back together."

Sirius stepped forward, his eyes catching the light. "I am now."

Vala tossed and turned. Her eyes sprung open, and she bolted upright, inhaling deeply. The sun was setting; Gale was watching it in serene silence. 

"We leave at seven," she said. "Get dressed."

"I'm not-" Vala began. 

"It's time we faced our fears," Gale interrupted. "Tonight we return the bride he married."

~+~+~+~

"Just a kid," Billy grunted. "Just a bloody kid with a bloody rifle… Bloody idiots." His spurs chinking against the cobblestones, he walked in a bow-legged march. He shined his rifle, a classic Henry Repeating Rifle, and made his long journey to the Malfoy Mansion. 

The sky bled red, and he continued towards his target. A mission that had never been accomplished. 

~+~+~+~

Big, black paws padded down the street, head swinging in all directions. He'd lost her scent awhile back, but he had a good idea where she was. 

~+~+~+~

"Argle… funk."

"Muph, de funk?"

"De funk… murk."

"Jesus funk."

"What is it with you two? We really oughtta go."

Napoleon glared at Charlie. "I'm gonna kill 'im."

"You act like you've never drank before," Charlie retorted, crossing his arms.

"Why, bluh?"

"Because if I know Ben," Charlie began slowly, "And I don't… He's probably doing something whack."

"Shootin' up some innocent bystanders, no doubt," Seth answered.

"Check da drawer… maybe he din' take da gun."

Charlie opened a few drawers at random. "Which one did you say?"

"Fuck," Napoleon breathed. "He took it."

"Funk?" Seth answered, lifting his arm from his eyes, looking to his black brother.

~+~+~+~

"I… It doesn't fit."

Gale eyed Vala critically. She stepped forward, and circled the girl. In comparison, Vala was a lot older than Gale. However, in their current standpoint, Gale had become the leader and the mother, while Vala had fallen to the place of a child trying on her mother's over-sized ball gowns. 

"Not too bad… We can make adjustments, yes, but not too bad."

"Not too bad?" Vala repeated. "Are you seeing the same thing I am?" She lifting the shoulders of the dress, a habit of hers whenever something didn't fit quite right. "This dress is made for a woman with curves, and I don't have any!" She banged her hips with the heel of her hands. "Look, nada, nothing. I'm flat as a rack!"

"Hmm…" Gale rubbed her chin. "No, I think it'll do."

Vala looked into the mirror, and missed the potential Gale insisted was there. The dress was gorgeous. Absolutely _luscious_, on the right figure… a figure Vala had never possessed. It was a midnight blue, sleeveless, with fabric looping at the hip and the shoulders, and… it was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous… on the right figure. And it tried to give Vala that figure, give her curves and give her height and beauty, but it failed. It failed miserably, and Vala was a walking testament of that. 

"No, it's lacking, it won't do," Vala ended, tugging the dress off her shoulders.

~+~+~+~

Romulus finished the whiskey, and tossed the empty bottle in a dusty corner. He banged his back against the wall again, a sign of restlessness. He checked his watch again. "Women" he muttered.

Gale poked her head out the door; he had been occupying the hall. "Go to a flower shop, and pick me up some night lilies."

"Night lilies?"

"Yes," she replied, kissing his cheek and slipping back inside. 

"Night lilies," he repeated. "Night lilies… What could she possibly do with Night Lilies?"

He propelled himself from the wall, and started down the creaking stairs. "Hmm… that was some excellent whiskey," he said to the world, "I'll have to ask where he got it."

The door swung open, and Gale yelled after him. "Scratch Night Lilies! We need Fire Lilies!"

"Fire Lilies…?" He began to turn, but the door slammed behind her.

~+~+~+~

"This one is nice," Gale offered, lifting a dress for Vala to see.

"It's black."

"I know. Isn't it lovely?" She dropped one end, and a thousand stars leapt and sparkled from the satin fabric.

"Lovely, yes. Will I wear it? No. I'm pale, Gale, I'd look like a ghost."

"What's so wrong about that? The Grey Lady looks charming enough."

"That's fine enough for her," Vala snapped, "But I'm alive and breathing. I won't look like Death before my time."

"It'll be your time soon enough," Gale muttered under her breath. 

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Oh, this one is a beauty," she rushed, changing the subject. "How do you like this one?" Gale held up a gold one, which, like the others, sparkled far too much. 

Vala turned her face away. "Do all your dresses really require enough reflectors to produce your own personal disco ball? It's enough to light a room."

Gale sighed in defeat. "I give up, then. All I've got is this green one. I wore it to a Malfoy wedding."

Vala shared Gale's disinterest and exhaustion. "Which one?"

"One that I did not intend on showing up the bride," she replied indifferently, pulling the last dress from the closet. It was plain, Vala would admit, but at the point she had reached, less was more. 

"Let me try it on."

~+~+~+

"I've got the Fire Lilies," Romulus called importantly, poking his head around the door. He held the flowers forward, ready to be welcomed with gracious blessings and showers of love and kisses. 

"Take them back," Gale replied, making adjustments to a pure green gown, wrapping itself sadly around Vala. "We need roses."

"Roses?"

"Yes, black ones." 

"Black ones?"

"Yes, now hurry."

~+~+~+~

"I don't know."

"I do. And I like it."

Vala was uncertain. She looked the dress over, examining it from every aspect. She was ashamed to admit it, but the dress wasn't half-bad. It dipped low on her back, and bunched just above expostion. It streamed down in separate channels, and reached high in the front, cuffing her neck. At first, it had been a bit big around the hips and bust. But Gale had changed that. She had tightened the bunch in the back, making the channels thinner and uncountable. Vala spun once more, looking it over. 

"Your roses," Romulus interrupted. "Black as night, sharp as knives."

"Darling," Gale smiled, gingerly taking the flowers from him, kissing his cheek. 

Vala watched their interaction in curiosity, but noticing herself, looked away. A second sooner, she would have missed it, and she wished she had. She closed her eyes and wished it away, but it was imprinted on her soul. Tattooed in red, flaming letters, and she wished death upon herself than see it again. 

"Place a shrinking spell on these, will you, love?" Gale requested, resuming her businesslike manner. "I need them a good few centimeters smaller."

"The sky, my love, the sky," he promised, clipping the flowers from her and turning in a flap of over-sized bell sleeves to perform a simple shrinking spell.

~+~+~+~

Vala gazed in the mirror, not really seeing. Romulus and Gale had left her alone; to admire the finished product, she imagined. She watched the dress flow as she turned this way and that, but her mind was elsewhere.

"I wished for love," she whispered to herself, "And when I found it, I was already married." She wanted to cry, but tears had never saved her before. What she wanted, and what she needed, was gone. "I was granted a family," she continued in hushed silence. "I lost that family, and wished for death. But I did not know pain, and I did not feel my heart truly ache until I lost that of my second family… Until I lost those I thought I knew, and those I trusted. My father, my friend… why are the first to promise, always the first to break?"

She bowed her head in reflection, and knew nothing could save her now. She was involved in some ridiculous scheme, one that in involved Saxon none the less. She did not know all the details, but she knew enough to know she didn't want a part of it. This was her revenge, they told her, but she knew it was a lie; it was revenge _through _her. 

A knock and Gale reentered. Romulus kept by the door, as if afraid to cross over some invisible barrier. She stepped up behind Vala, and whispered near her ear. "It's time," she said, and she slunk back into the darkness. Vala looked over herself silently, seeing the curves the dress attempted, and the awkward angles poking out in place. 

Now or never, she told herself. She'd wanted revenge for a long time, but had let it slip away with age. She was still young, and she was no ones. She rose her chin, and peered at her own reflection. This was her revenge, whether or not Romulus or Gale chose to take part in it. She swept away from the mirror and past Romulus, who had bowed his head in a certain respect, and glided down the stairs in an air she was born with and suspected she'd lost long ago.

__

(A/N: Damn it's been a long time… I'm busy with schoolwork over the weekdays and I'm busy with work work over the weekends. Not much time to sit back and write. I did manage to produce two chapters for you guys though, ;) And I'm working on chapter 45 right now. You guys are great. Thanks for your patience, sexah. -Vouivre)


	45. Overcome

(A/N: The original breaks of this story has been changed to a series of dots… When I tried uploading the new chapters, the original breaks would not show up--making it hard and obnoxious to read the chapter. Sorry for the inconvenience! -Vouivre)

Overcome

__

Even now  
The world is bleeding  
But feeling just fine  
All num in a castle  
Where we're always free to choose  
Never free enough to find  
I wish something would break  
Cuz we're running out of time

Billy the Kid ran past the open gates, inviting friends and employing enemies. He'd learned after several hours of research that the Malfoy Mansion, in its stupidity, had left the outskirts of the land without curses and traps. He brushed up against the fence and slunk his way towards the mansion.

. . . . . . . . . .

Padfoot stopped at the gates, unsure of himself. He pressed forward, and stopped again. There was something on the air. Lifting his nose, he poked around the scents and caught it again. A familiar foxhound, he smiled, was about. Dropping his nose to the dirt, he followed the scent.

. . . . . . . . . .

Remus sat by the fire, staring dreamily and rotating his glass between dry fingers. Everything had been so perfect. He chuckled to himself. Yes, everything had been perfect so many years ago. He had his friends, he had his family, and everything was tied together so neatly and so nicely. But now the Dark Lord was returning, Vala was missing, and he was running short on wine. Why did wine always have to go and do that, when you wanted it the most?

And now his glass was empty. What was that? He tipped it upside down and one last, lonely drop spilled unto his carpet; a carpet rugged with age, but reeking of bleach and scrubbing. He sighed and set the glass on an end table.

There was a pop and--

"What is this, National Drinking Day?" Fae asked sarcastically. Her hands reached her hips in a motherly sense, and she responded to his sigh. "Things are fucked in the Transcendental World again."

"Transcendental World?" he repeated disinterestedly, "What about this one?"

"Don't be ludicrous, Remus," she snapped, picking up a pace and crossing her arms. "When things are fucked in the Transcendental World it's not longer after they're fucked in this one."

"Haven't you ever heard of living for the moment?" he asked, trying to avoid her hardened gaze.

"Haven't you ever heard to plan for the future?" she asked accusingly. "What is with you, Remus? Are you drunk?"

Somewhere through his drunken stupor, it sunk that Fae was on edge. But for what, he couldn't guess. In the blink of an eye, Fae was over him, her steaming eyes pouring into his and burning a message into his mind.

She spoke with a sharpened edge. Each syllable cut nice and neat. "Events are to take place tonight, and those events will determine the future for you, for me, Romulus, Sirius, Saxon, and most of all, Vala. If you want to play numb to that, then you're less of a man than I thought."

Remus touched his hand to his forehead, an oncoming headache clouding his mind. "Fae… What are you talking about?"

Inhaling sharply, she sighed; her breath on Remus' face. She moved back, falling into a familiar pace. "There's a ball tonight, at the Malfoy Mansion--" she rubbed her temples, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Fae would have wrinkles, at a very young age, if she didn't learn to grasp unto things a bit tighter. "And something's going to happen…"

Remus moved forward, reaching the edge of his seat. "Fae, what's going to happen?"

In a whirl of fabric and temper, she turned on him. "I don't know, Remus! That's just the thing! I don't know anything!"

He stood up, grabbing hold of her shoulders. "Yes, yes, you do, you do know… Think, think hard…"

She pushed him away. "Don't you think I've tried? I can't see anything, Remus! All I see is clippings--any of it can happen, none of it can--The future is unpredictable!" Frustration eloped her, covering her with kisses of annoyance and spite.

Remus pressed harder, grabbing hold of her again. "Fae, calm down… What have you seen?" His touch was gentle but stern. "Fae… tell me what you've seen."

Fae blinked slowly, the pain eluding her. "I've seen horrible things, Remus… Horrible things."

. . . . . . . . . .

Shrill laughter and faces lit with the giddiness of colorful drinks in curved glasses and topped with fragile umbrellas filled the hall. A single somber face sat among the crowd, reclining lazily in a plated and laced seat. A house is a man's castle, and the king was not happy. His prized love had left him and even the craziest of jesters could not lift his spirits.

"She's a fine one… In the red robes," Saccade offered.

"A fine one for execution," Saxon breathed over the rimmed edge of a glass. He smelled of boredom, but even more than that, he reeked of bitterness. He'd lost himself. He'd lost himself over a girl, and now he was so far gone even the most charming of temptresses could not pull him back. "Seduction is a funny thing," he chuckled.

Saccade gave him his full attention, these days you were lucky to get a smirk out of the boy--let alone a chuckle. "How so?" he asked curiously, sipping his wine.

"It's a game where the women are just as equal as the men… Both can play just as well, just as rough… Just as nasty." A smirk crossed his lips, and he continued, "You can seduce a woman for twelve years. You can break her spirits, break her mind, and totally own her. You can play her like you played the others, only this one is easier… This one actually trusts you. Then one day you wake up," and now you gave a look of false surprise, "And you suddenly you realize you're the one that's been seduced. She's played the game better than you; you've lost… You've lost everything you ever owned, and here we are." After a brief moment of examining his glass, he sighed. "Here I am…"

Saccade blinked slowly. "Are you saying Vala played you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in pointed misunderstanding.

Saxon moved so fast Saccade barely believed his collar was in the man's hands. If it weren't for the gripping, shaking hands and Saxon's pale face bearing into his own, he wouldn't have. "I'm saying she tricked me!" he shouted. "I'm saying she fooled me into believing she was fragile and helpless!" The guests fell silent, as often is the case when a fight breaks out in a Malfoy crowd. Guests and friends fade into the shadows, their eyes darken and a low, cruel smile twists their lips. "She came to me without a family! Without a home and without a history! She was nothing! But I took her in! I **made** her a Malfoy! What else could she want?" He threw Saccade back; he straightened himself and did a half circle. He shot persistent glances around the room, daring for someone to answer, pleading for someone to reply. "What else could she want?" he repeated. The crowd was more silent than ever before. Never before had so many of them been put on trial at once. "_Well?_"

"Perhaps she wanted her freedom," a voice chimed in behind him.

He swung to meet the eyes of the traitor. The liar and fool. "What did--" and he fell silent upon meeting them.

"What is it?" Vala asked, her ear angled towards him and her voice ringing of confidence. "Did you really believe wealth and infamy could hold her? Did you really believe that could steal her heart away?" With every word she stepped forward. She stepped in a slow, menacing way. "Did you honestly believe you had _broken_ her?" she asked unbelievingly, a faint laugh on her lips. "Did you think you steal _me?"_ She paused for a moment, but he did not answer. "Oh no, Saxon Malfoy, the circumstances were quite different. I came to you as a young girl with a broken heart." She dipped her head slightly, the remembrance of it escaping her in a light breath. She looked up at him, her eyes a piercing shade of green. "I was a fool," she admitted, "I made my mistakes." She stepped closer. "But don't you think that I was broken. Don't you _dare_ think that you healed my wounds… gave me a life and gave me a name. You took those from me," she accused. "You took my life away and discarded it, just as you discard all beautiful things. You wanted to lock me up into a small jewel box, tie me up with silk and hide me away from the world. And I allowed it. I let you abuse me, but not anymore…" her breath fell on his lips. "Even the sickest of birds can sing again," she whispered, "And I will fly."

Saxon's eyes narrowed and his words clipped dangerously. "You are my property."

Vala pulled the wedding ring off her left ring finger. She held it in a closed fist above their heads and said, "I have no right to this, and you have no right to my heart." And dropped it. The gold chinked against the marble and rolled two feet before tipping on its side in retreat. "I'm leaving." She turned from him, fabulous yards of fabric swinging about her. He grabbed her bare wrist.

"I think you misunderstood," he said in a slithering, low voice. "Your heart may never be mine, but your body is. I own you." He pulled her into him and smelled the scents in her hair. He bent his head and whispered into her ear. "You will always be mine. Escape now," he said, one hand wound around her waist, another trailing down her body. "Run away with your long, luscious legs… Let the wind carry you away… But I will find you. You will never escape me… Till death do we part."

"Your own personal death omen," she hissed, bringing the knife up into his ribcage.

. . . . . . . . . .

"She stabbed him," Fae whispered, the stale cigarette falling from her lips.

Remus stared. "Did she kill him?"

Fae and Remus confirmed a shared horror.

"She'll be locked in Azkaban for sure!"


	46. Unwanted

Unwanted

__

Unwanted, unneeded  
You've always been mistreated.  
Hang on! (don't do what they say to)  
Unwanted, and been for so long  
Say, "Hey Mom! I'm never coming home again!"

Saxon stumbled back and Vala pulled the knife from his ribs. "You… You cut me!"

"Just remember, darling," Vala began, advancing and snaking an arm around Saxon's neck. "You cut me first." She pulled him towards her and kissed his lips lightly. "Oh," she started, close enough that blood was dripping on her dress. "Who'd of thought you were warm inside?" Her lips twisted into a smile as she patted his cheek, gently smearing blood across his face.

"You can't run forever," he affirmed with difficulty.

Twelve years of wearing and hanging had proved enough for her. The drilling of the twelve years finally caught up with her. Every empty promise, every false proclamation. All the miscarriages, all the lost time, every broken heart… She would run and she would leave, but he would not follow. She wanted to make sure he couldn't even walk. Holding him against her, she thrust the knife just under his heart. "I'd like to see you **try** and catch me," she gritted, digging deeper. Blood spluttered down her front, but still she didn't give in. With one final thrust upward, she struck a nerve and Saxon crouched back. The beast within her retracted and she pulled the knife from him. She didn't want him to die. Oh no, she wanted him to live with what he had done to her. She wanted him to wake up each morning and feel his wounds, a visible reminder of everything he had ever done to her. She wanted to make sure he would never forget.

The king huddled in his own castle, nursing his wounds and shaking from the severity of the pain. With that she turned and walked out of the tainted hall forever. Behind her she left a broken man, a ripped and punctured man… and a ring, a ring of the continuous cycle she lived for twelve years. The cycle she broke away from and the life she left behind. The broken king, defiled and decrowned by his own queen.

The night was looking brighter already.

. . . . . . . . . .

"What's happening now?" Remus asked anxiously.

"She… She's walking away!" Fae smiled excitably.

"Is he alive?"

"He'll… live," she responded, her mood deepening. "A sad, lost life, but a life all the same."

"Then Vala won't go to Azkaban?" he asked anxiously.

"That's a debate… She did stab a Malfoy," Fae replied, eyeing Remus nauseatingly. "I suppose it depends what Malfoy Senior is interested in."

"Death, for sure," Remus answered hollowly.

. . . . . . . . . .

Under a table, the white tablecloth pulled down low, a foxhound sat. He had snuck in through a back door and watched the night's events with interest. Behind him, somewhere, he could sense the big, black beast.

The foxhound bent his head and seemed to sigh.

__

And the beast dies, he said, his anger cooling over.

__

Leave it here, the black beast motioned, setting down beside him. _I appreciate your work, but this is where we switch off._

I suppose it's just as well, the foxhound answered. He rose from his jaunts and took one lasting glance at the company. _It's a lost cause._

She's not.

The foxhound looked to the dog with great pity. _Give her time. _His eyes fell back to the empty doorway. _Lost and broken. They don't come much worse._

The black dog shook its rugged head and dismissed the opinion. _She'll pull through. She'll come around._

The foxhound began to walk off and paused. Dropping a glance back, he said, _Just don't get caught up in a hopeless dream._

Padfoot smiled. _You're talking to the wrong person, old sport. Wrong, indeed._

. . . . . . . . . .

"Did she kill him?" Gale asked in a breathy whisper. She craned to see. "Is he dead?"

"Gale…" Romulus began quietly. "It's time we leave."

"Did she kill him?" she repeated, louder.

"Gale," he tried.

"Did she?" she pressed harder, peeking over heads and through couples.

"Gale," he stressed for the last time. "He's not your father."

Gale turned to Romulus with a pierce in her eyes. "_What_ did you say?"

A hand on her shoulder and an eye taking watch, he directed her from the hall in a hurried, unnoticed fashion. "I'm going to speak in a low voice," he began. "So as to make it appear I'm your husband." An attempt to keep attention from them. "Now listen to me-"

"Not far from a real spouse, are you?" she asked sharply.

He stopped her and pulled her eyes into his. "You would do well to keep your voice down." Dropping back into a rhythmic stroll, he curled his arm around her shoulders and continued. "The deed is done and now we must leave… I understand your need to see an injustice man die an injustice death--but this man is not your father. Your father is living back in the States, cramped in a small room in some big city, beer in hand and remote in the other."

"I never thought he was my father," she breathed, spiteful and irritated. "Never have I thought that slimy, slick idiot of a man was my father… My father could not compare to the likes of him with a leashed unicorn and a penny in his pocket. My father," she breathed, bowing her head, "Was a sick man."

"Then he's not worth your time," Romulus whispered gently. "Let him go."

Gale's head dipped and she brought her sad, unforgiving eyes to him. "Let him go?" she asked. "How do you expect me to do that?"

He only paused for a moment to check his guard. They were outside now, away from the streams of people and away from the crowd. They had made their way down the sidewalk and had found themselves in the street. They were, in short, completely alone. "Like this," he answered, catching her up in his arms and kissing her full and curious lips. When he had released her, "Your father was a wicked man," he said, "but you can overcome that. Let him go… Marry me."

. . . . . . . . . .

Vala followed an old, curved road. How she found herself there and where she was, she didn't know. All she knew was she must keep walking. She must get as far away as possible. She was no longer afraid of Saxon or his minions. She was simply determined to put as much earth between she and Saxon as physically possible. Her worn heels crunched against the gravel and the remains of her stained, shredded dress hung on her limply. The magic was gone. She couldn't go back to her old life because her old life was gone. James and Lily were dead, Sirius was running from the law, Fae and Grant were getting married… She supposed she could go back to live with Remus, but Remus had already given her away. Remus had already married her off to Saxon Malfoy, and that had proved to be the worst mistake either could have ever committed.

Vala wanted to believe in the rising sun. She wanted to keep walking until tomorrow. She wanted to believe that somewhere there was someone waiting for her. A home she could go back to and a love she could hold. But she had none of those things. All she had was a pair of blistering heels and a dress stained with her former love's blood. She had lost her place in the world, and now she was lost. Horribly lost.

In a world of schemes and lies and thieves, one wish did come true for that night. Slowly, over the horizon, the sun was waking up.

. . . . . . . . . .

It had been several hours, and somehow Saxon Malfoy had found his way into his father's office. It reminded him of his childhood, his father behind the desk, he in front, absorbing everything his father said. He had only cried twice in that room. Once when he was a child, and he soon learned what a mistake that was, and the second when he was a grown man. He did not regret his more recent outburst. He rather resented his father for how he had reacted.

"What actions are you taking?"

"This is a broken marriage, father, not a battle field," Saxon replied, lazily picking at the hilt of a sword. Sometimes he envisioned himself lifting that sword. Gripping its glamorous hilt and swinging that sharp, thick blade at his father. He never would, he knew, but sometimes it was pleasant to dream.

"Actions must be taken," Ares pressed.

"Get off it," he said. "She left me… The fairy tale is over."

"She bloody well stabbed you," his father corrected. "She ripped our heart out, any closer with that dagger and it would have been quite literal."

"I'm not concerned with technicalities," Saxon responded. "She left me. The war's over." He directed his attention to the chair he was in; an evergreen, velvet one with silver trimmings. He'd learned a lot in that chair. He had learned how to plot, how to plan... How to kill a man. "We were never very happy anyhow…"

"Happy? Happy!?" Ares pulled himself dramatically to his feet. "Is that why you think couples wed?"

"No, I didn't…" Saxon shook his head, bringing his eyes to meet his father's. "I believed families were meant to be military."

Ares took his seat uneasily. "I don't know what you meant by that comment, but-"

"I learned the father was always in charge and always right. I learned the rest of the family was simply his property, as disposable as tissue," Saxon carried on casually. "They were to obey him and listen to him and do everything he ever wished to be true…" His eyes leaving his father, he recollected his thoughts and redirected his attention. "I lived that lie. I've lived it for many years, but new events have taken place. Twelve years ago I made a broken woman my bride. I gave her a name, a house, a family… And that wasn't enough. She left me, father." A hand reached his chest and touched the bound wounds. "She's left an everlasting mark on me. I can't just forget what's happened. I can't just hire some hit man to take her down. To rip her heart out much like she did mine… I can't do that because it wouldn't bring her back. Even if it did, it wouldn't make her mine." Saxon stood up; he stood and turned slowly to the door. "She will never be mine, father. It's time I accepted that and moved on with my life… I've wasted enough sweat and blood on it already."

"Rebellion," Ares sneered, reaching his lips.

Saxon paused at the door and turned to stare at him. "I'm twenty-nine, father. Ten years past rebellion… I think it's about time you learned that." Inhaling, he breathed a sigh, and left his father to his own thoughts and presumptions.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Billy, baby! You're back!" Seth threw himself at the curly-headed boy.

"It's Ben, Seth…" he corrected. "I'm leaving the Gang."

"Whatchu talking about, fool?" Napoleon asked, stepping alongside Seth.

He rose his chin in false pride. "Well, I've been thinking… and I've taken a long while to think at that, and I only find it proper that I should kick myself out before handing the honors over to you fine gentlemen. This way I figure there's no awkward silences and confused dialogue."

"Yo, bro, I think you just achieved that," Napoleon replied, raising an eyebrow. "What's this talk about you leaving us?"

"Well, I've been thinking… This isn't the first time I've stormed out of the Crib with chaps and a shotgun. I mean," he shook his head. "I just don't think the Gang needs someone as reckless as myself around."

"Reckless as yourself," Napoleon repeated, a smile curling his full lips.

"This is the James Gang, we're _notorious_ for being reckless," Seth added

"We just, wouldn't be us if we weren't reckless," his brother finished.

"You two are… But," Ben paused. "Well, I always thought I brought a type of _balance_ to the Gang. I thought I kept things from getting out of hand, like I kept everything cool-headed and under control."

The brothers shared an expression of utter deception. They each arched an eyebrow in unison and shook their head to remove the ridiculous thoughts. "Sorry to break it to you, brother," Seth started, each brother taking a side of Ben and patting him on the back--gently breaking the news to him.

"But you were never very cool-headed," Napoleon finished.

"Brilliant."

"But never cool-headed."

Both shrugged and smiled good-naturedly.

Ben sighed and let his head drop. "Then I suppose I was nothing."

"Oh no, don't believe that," Napoleon started.

"The Gang would be lost without you!"

"Bonnie adores you."

"We need you," Seth said earnestly.

"And where would Clyde be without his silent mate?"

"What of Charlie and Bob?" Ben reminded, raising his head and glancing from each James Brother.

"The Ford Brothers?" Napoleon confirmed, tilting his head.

"Bloody sods…" Seth breathed, turning away for a moment. "They can damn well screw themselves in Hell."

"We try and avoid thinking on them," Napoleon cut off, shooting a shaky glance at his brother.

"What's up with those two?" Ben inquired curiously. "Something's up. What are they planning?"

"We're not entirely sure," Napoleon admitted, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, I've got a bloody good idea!" Seth blurted, swinging on his brother with an accusing finger. Advancing, he continued, "I told you we should have reconsidered! I told you we shouldn't have given them a chance! But no, what did you say?" Seth stopped to mock think. "Hmm… I don't seem to remember quite what it was. Do you? Do you remember?"

"I said it wouldn't cause any harm."

"And where you right?" Seth pressed.

Now Napoleon straightened and leaned towards his brother, challenging him. "I haven't been wrong thus far, have I?"

Ben was confused. Apparently he had gotten into the middle of an ongoing argument. He had never liked the Fords very much, but he always thought the James were more partial than toleration. He was delighted… If not slightly confused. "Are you really scared of the Ford brothers?"

"No, I'm not scared of them!" Seth snapped in disbelief. "They couldn't put together a jigsaw puzzle between the two of them! Let's face it, they're not the brightest people in the world--nor are they clever."

"It's not that we're afraid of them personally," Napoleon cleared. "We're not concerned about what they'll think to do, but what they **won't** think to do. They have several options open to them to destroy the James Gang, which is what they _eventually_ plan to do, but I--**we**--feel that they may take their most obvious options."

"Oh…" something clicked inside Ben and he looked up to his brothers for a reply. "Three Unforgivables?"

Napoleon nodded sadly, Seth tightened his jaw and fists.

Ben leaned against the counter. "So who's bright idea was it to take them on?" He had come to quit the Gang, but things were starting to look a little more interesting onboard.

Seth shot an icy glare at Napoleon. "Ask Boy Genius," he spit, narrowing his eyes.

Napoleon sighed and took a seat at the water-stained table. "I thought they would be less of a threat if we took them on. We didn't have to tell them everything… Just enough to make them believe they were a part of the Gang."

"And did they?"

Now it was Napoleon's turn. "I'm sure they did," he said in a low, agitated voice. "If _someone_ hadn't gone shooting their mouth off."

"I won't stand for it anymore, Napoleon!" Seth yelled, slamming a fist down on the table. "I'm not going to sit back and watch those sods get the best of us! I won't allow that bloody Bob mongrel to harass Bonnie any longer! Or Charlie mock Clyde! The man's a bloody mute; he can't retort! That's just _cruel._" Seth turned in an annoyed half circle away from his brother and crossed his arms.

"I think," Ben started quietly, "That Clyde defends himself quite differently than yourself. He's more clever than you think."

Napoleon nodded in agreement. "I have to say that Clyde has a nasty streak. I once made a crack about his disability to please Bonnie…" He paused for the memory, horrible as it was. "I woke up in the middle of the night with a serious urge to urinate, and a toilet full of snapping turtles." He reflected for a moment. "Never jumped so high in my life."

"You wicked bastard," Seth cursed with a smirk.

"I was on a drunken rant," he shrugged, excusing himself. "I couldn't contain myself… Ah well," he sighed. "Happens to the best of us."

"Yes," Seth agreed.

A moment passed for them, each gazing into their own reflections. Finally, Ben spoke. "I don't suppose I'll be leaving then."

"I had hoped not," Seth replied.

"We'll certainly be needing you for what's to come," Napoleon agreed.

Their eyes met each other's; sharing thoughts and confirming suspicions. The coming battle would not be an easy one, but together, they could fight it.


	47. Got To Begin Again

Got to Begin Again

All the words have been spoken  
And the prophecy fulfilled  
But I just can't decide where to go  
Yes, it's been quite a day  
And I should go to sleep  
But tomorrow I will wake up and I'll know  
That I've got to begin again  
Though I don't know how to start  
Yes, I've got to begin again, and it's hard

"Sit down," Vala muttered to herself. "Sit down and weep." She wanted to, she honestly wanted to… But she couldn't. Vala suffered from a rare disease--an unattached heart. She had forgotten how to feel several years back; it was easier that way. She simply did not care, or at least she taught herself to believe that. In the course of building this wall, Vala had forgotten how to laugh, how to cry… She forgot how to be human. She forgot the simple pleasures of being alive. She forgot the feeling of a crisp breath in her lungs, the wind playing games across her face and through her hair, the feeling of a warm, summer sun… Natural feelings most people take for granted.

Though she could remember a time in her life when she did feel. A time when she learned how to smile, to laugh and even to cry… She had learned how it felt to leave a loved one behind, to feel her heart finally shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Sirius," her voice strained, a sharp twitch following in her eye. "I hate this life."

A black, rugged dog stepped apart of the trees and brush. Vala was too exhausted to react. Instead she paused in a sad and tired manner, then continued on her slow journey. A hopeless journey built on false dreams and truths. The dog followed alongside her. Her only companion in an empty world.

"Twenty eight," she said, "And sick of living. Such a waste."

The dog poked at her hand. When she didn't respond, he softly bit into her dress and tugged towards a gap in the trees. Not far in was a small clearing. Shaded and just enough room for a dog and his master.

Vala continued. The dog tugged harder and she complied. "Alright," she surrendered, "Then we sleep." Following him into the forest, she put her weary body to rest.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Fae… You've been up all night. Why don't you come to bed?"

"I can't," she insisted. "I need to find Vala." Rubbing her temples and closing her eyes in concentration, a cigarette dangled from her lips. She had left Remus' quite some time ago, but promised him she would keep searching for Vala. If nothing else, Fae held to her promises.

Another candle burned itself out; the incense had dropped its last spiral of ashes hours ago. A small window, with its ledge spattered with droplets of dew, released columns of smoke. The sky was a gentle grey, clogged with clouds and the faint whispers of a new day. And still, Fae searched. She searched through every mind for the slightest indication of Vala's dwellings. She had already tried finding Vala personally, but something was wrong… her mind was somehow shut off to Fae. She was alive, she could feel that, but she couldn't crawl into Vala's head. She couldn't read her thoughts.

"Love, she'll still be there when you get back… She's probably sleeping."

Fae turned on him. "But what if something happens? What if she opens up to me or someone finds her? I have to keep searching, Grant, I have to!"

Grant propelled himself from the doorway and walked up alongside his fiancée. He crouched down near her and brushed the hair from her eyes. "Fae, darling, come to bed… You won't find anything else tonight." He kissed her forehead. "You're exhausted. Get some sleep and then we can search again… I'll contact my relatives if I have to. We'll find out what happened to her and where she is. Don't worry, love, we'll catch up to her."

Turning her eyes to him, she looked near tears. "I'm just so worried, Grant. What if something happens to her?"

"She'll be alright," he assured, wrapping his arms around her middle and helping her up. "She can take care of herself." Together, Grant's arm around Fae's waist and Fae's around Grant's neck, they made their way to their bedroom. "Do you remember what you once told me?" Grant asked conversationally.

"No," Fae answered, then stopping. "Well, I may. Refresh my memory."

"It was the night of Vala's wedding…"

"I think I remember."

He looked to her. "You told me Vala was a clock, and that even broken clocks could tick again."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well," he paused to let Fae into bed, and crawling over the floorboard, joined her. "Suppose Vala is that clock, and suppose this is just her ticking again."

"Why can't I get into her mind?" Fae countered, not entirely convinced. "That's only happened once before, and that was a hopeless case."

"Who was it?" Grant inquired, propping himself up on an elbow.

Fae's eyes were lost somewhere between reality and fantasy, that timeless space between the earth and the moon. "It was a girl that could slit her wrists and not feel a thing. It was a girl that could cut herself off from the world, ignore everything pressing and important, and still live. She did not have friends or acknowledge a family. If you talked to her, she would simply stare at you. She had the grimmest eyes you ever did see, some would say she was soulless…" Finally, she found Grant. "She wasn't alive. She breathed and she watched, but she could not _live_."

"Do you fear that's what Vala's turned into?" Grant attempted to confirm.

She looked at him in a piercing, frightening way. "No, I do not fear, Grant. I know."

"Well," he thought for a moment, "Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps it takes some time before she can tick without flaw?" He paused for another moment and took a deep breath. Shifting to two elbows, he continued, "Don't you think it will take her some time to really find herself? You need to remember that she hasn't had an easy life… When she was sixteen her parents were killed by Death Eaters. Following that, she lived comfortably enough. But then the whole ordeal with the Potters and Sirius has to be taken into account--and the following year she was married to Saxon. Think about it, darling, for twelve years she was the silent wife of Saxon Malfoy… She fell into some type of routine with him. Sure, she wasn't happy--but she wasn't sad either. She was living, Fae, that's all… All the usual obligations of being alive." He turned on his side to examine her language. "Think were she is now. Think of what she's going through. Would you handle it easily? She's twenty-eight, Fae, and she's just finding out who she is. Don't you think that will take some time?"

Fae rest her head on her crossed arms and stared at Grant. A long moment paused before she said, "I sure hate when you're right."

He smiled and kissed her mouth. "Have some faith, love. Being a Seer is looking into the future, but being human is looking into the past as well. Don't forget what you are."

She pouted for a moment, then let a small bit of sunshine crack through. "It's lucky I have you to keep me in check," she said, curling up into him.

"Oh, the feeling is mutual, love," he said, wrapping himself around her. "Entirely mutual."

. . . . . . . . . .

Lying straight, head between paws, Padfoot sat watch. His master was curled up beside him, deep in sleep and deeper in her subconscious. Occasionally she would shake, and Padfoot would nudge her lightly; enough to bring her away from nightmares, but never enough to wake her. He was a type of dream catcher that night, catching all her nightmares and letting her keep the pleasant ones.

In her mind, a reoccurring dream came around, familiar pictures filling her mind.

"I hate this life," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"There's love," he replied, touching her arm and leaning forward.

"What is love?" she asked, pulling away. "Other than an excuse to indulge in guilty pleasures, to lie and scheme, and proclaim it all in the name of love? What is it? Other than an excuse?"

"Love is simple."

"Love is ridiculous," she concluded, turning her back to him. "Love is forgetting all other commitments. Love is hurtful." She spoke with spiteful experience, and the ache of past relationships cut her speech into jagged shapes.

"Love is understanding," he whispered, moving closer. His voice wrapped itself around her, soothing her, comforting her. "Love is feeling your pain… your heart break."

Vala sighed, and faced him. Her arms dropped in defeat. "You were never there to piece me back together."

Sirius stepped forward, his eyes catching the light. "I am now."

Vala woke, her eyes shooting from the leaves to the bushes and finally, to the dog.


	48. She's Automatic

She's Automatic

__

she asked me if I would stand by  
her side like glue that I would till the end of the night  
my head was spinnin' a million miles an hour  
the chance I was takin' I get anxious around her  
she put her head on my shoulder I started to hold her  
swingin' and swayin' the morning began

"Sirius…"

From in between its paws, the dog raised its head.

How hadn't she known? How had she just begun to suspect? Vala leaned towards the dog, and placing her hands delicately on either side of his head, began to feel again. Padfoot scooted forward and moving ever closer, began to shapeshift. His forelegs began to lengthen, his hair thinned, his shoulders broadened and his abdomen straightened. His nose shortened, but the intensity of his brown eyes never changed. Vala stared into those eyes, seeing her past, her present and her future. She saw her secrets, her lies, and her love.

"Sirius," she repeated in a whisper, pulling him into her. "Sirius, oh god, Sirius…"

Sirius brought her into him. His arms wrapping her, he held her close to him.

Dropping her forehead unto his shoulder, she whispered, "Don't leave me, Sirius, never again. Don't leave me."

"I won't," he assured repeatedly, hugging her tighter.

"Please," she breathed, "Let me keep you just once."

He wanted to tell her that he never would. That he could hold her for all eternity, that he would never let her go or out of his sight. But how could he do that? How could he possibly express every emotion he'd ever felt for her--all the protection, affection and care? How could he even begin to summarize his feelings for her?

"Sirius," she began, her breath against his shoulder. "I love you."

So that's how it was done, he nodded. "I love you too."

. . . . . . . . .

"Marry you?" Gale repeated after Romulus, shock riddled. "Honest to God, marry you?"

Romulus pulled Gale into the bushes and clear from view. "Keep your voice down," he hushed. "You never know who might show up--it's better that we don't draw attention to ourselves."

"So you've said," she frowned. He pulled her near a bench and sat, gazing up at her.

"Gale-"

"I can't marry you, Romulus."

"What? I… I don't understand. Why not?"

Gale sighed softly. Crossing in front of him, his eyes following her religiously, she sat alongside him. She took his hands in hers. "I can't marry you, Romulus… Our, our relationship isn't like that." She looked away. "We don't really feel that way about each other."

"I do," he claimed, edging closer.

She turned to him, her eyes piercing but sad. "You do now, but-"

"Don't you feel that way too?" he asked, leaning forward, his eyes pleading.

"Yes, yes, I do-"

"Then what's wrong?"

Gale shook her head. "I feel like that now…" Her eyes strayed away. "But what's not to change that?" she asked, focusing on him again. "What's to keep those feelings intact? I've felt like this before, Romulus, and that ended bitterly. Don't you think people will talk?"

"Talk?"

"About us. I'm only twenty, Romulus. You're thirty-five. Thirty-five, Romulus, that's fifteen years."

Romulus tilted his head slightly and his lips curled in an amused smile. "I assure you, love, stranger things _have_ happened."

Gale shook her head and stepped to her feet. "No, Romulus, I'm sorry, but I can't marry you." She kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, but it was bound to happen eventually… Nothing lasts forever."

"Even cold November rain," he whispered in reply, his head drooping.

She stopped for a moment, observing him with squinted eyes and parted lips. He still held her interest and she still loved him, but she had to leave him. She had to leave before he proposed again, before he convinced her to marry him. Feelings were momentary; feelings did not last. True love did not exist, and if it did, she would never find it… Because she was a harpless soul without a single trust. And so she left. She left him on that moonlit, crumbling bench. She left him to himself and his false conceptions of love.

. . . . . . . . .

"Grant?"

"Yes, love?"

Fae lay on Grant's chest, the beating of his heart pounding in her ear. "I believe Vala is safe now."

"You do?" he carefully propped himself up on his elbows.

Her eyes drifted to his. "Yeah."

"How do you know?"

She moved up to join him, his arms holding her and his muscles relaxing. She snuggled up next to him and wrapped a leg across him. "Because I know."

Grant was silent for a moment, considering what she had said. At length, "So everything's okay now?"

"More or less. Why?"

"Because I've missed you."

"Grant, I'm right here--Ooh…" Fae smirked and nuzzled up against him. "Like that, eh?"

. . . . . . . . .

"Vala, we should be getting back."

Vala stirred. Despite everything, she had slept well--she had needed it. Her eyes flickered. "Back? Back where?"

"Back home," he answered quietly.

She paused. "The cave in Hogsmeade? Sirius, we-"

"No… Back to Remus'," he corrected before she could say more. "He can keep us for now."

Vala paused. Sirius stood over her, his hand held out. She peered up at him, doubtful curiosity playing in her eyes. "Can we?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

She shrugged lightly. "Well, I thought, I thought…" she took his hand. He pulled her up and into his arms.

"You thought he wouldn't take us? You thought you long lost your welcome?"

"Well, yes."

His lip curved like a bow and his eyes warmed for her. "If you thought that," he said, gracefully turning away and leading her out of the woods. "Then you don't know Remus very well."

Vala followed behind Sirius, thoughts wading across her mind. Of course he would take them back. Remus loved them, more than anything. They were all he had now… He didn't have friends and Romulus was the last remnant of his family. Vala had Fae and Grant and now Sirius, but Remus… He was one she had never lost, why had she suspected otherwise?

"When I get home," she began proudly, "I'm going to have a cup of the finest tea in England."

Laughter silently danced inside Sirius' eyes as he looked back at her. "Oh? I thought you didn't like tea."

"I hate it," She said stiffly, a smile tugging on her. "But I love Remus."

Sirius nodded knowingly, and slowly together they made their way back.

. . . . . . . . .

Alcohol has a tendency of exaggerating a person's thoughts, but all exaggerations have some basis of truth. Right now, Romulus was using that truth and twisting it into an exaggeration.

"Bloody women," he breathed heavily, kissing another bottle of whiskey.

"Your lady up and leave you?" inquired a stranger, a considerable amount of scotch on his breath.

Normally Romulus wouldn't be in the mood to deal with strangers, but he was in a bitter, drunken haze tonight--and willing to talk. "Yeah," he answered shortly, sucking on his bottle again.

"Wife or mistress?" the man prodded, stabilizing himself on the bar.

"I don't have no bloody wife or bloody mistress," he answered sourly.

"Ah… Just a girlfriend," the stranger assumed, shifting back easily into his seat.

"A bloody good one!" Romulus exclaimed, jabbing his bottle at the air. "The bloody best!"

"What happened?"

"Would you believe it?" Romulus started, his eyes wild and the shock still driven hard inside him. "I went and bloody asked her to bloody marry me! Bloody wench…"

"Turned you down, eh?"

"Left me," he replied, deeply kissing his bottle.

"Ah… That's hard."

"Bloody right it's hard!" Romulus yelled, smashing his bottle on the tile. "You're sodding right it's hard!" Romulus got uneasily to his feet, "You know what it's like? You know how fucking bloody hard that is?" He prodded the stranger with a stern finger. "Get up the nerve to ask your bloody girl to marry you and the bloody wench goes off and leaves you? Not good enough, she says, too old, she says! People will talk, she says, feelings don't last." He jabbed his finger hard into the man's ribcage. "You know what that's like?"

"Well, I, I…" the man stuttered, slowly reaching for his wand. "No."

He poked him again. "No, I don't suppose you would… Ah, fuck it." Throwing his hands up, he tried a dramatic exit with a whirling cloak and robes. He received the whirl of cloaks; he also achieved a trick of feet. After catching his balance, he stumbled out of the bar and into the cool night.

"Bloody women."

. . . . . . . . .

"Vala… I wasn't going to say anything," Sirius started uneasily.

"But this is taking a long time," she finished.

"Yes, it is. You wouldn't happen to know how to Apparate, would you?"

Her eyes flickered to him and she smirked. "Twenty-eight and the former wife of Saxon Malfoy, how could I not?"

"Excellent. Then let's rock this place."

"Sirius?"

"Yup?" he chirped, rolling up his sleeves and preparing himself for Apparation.

"I know you were a punk rocker," she started, rolling up her sleeves as well, "But were you ever a hippie?"

He glanced at her, pulling his wand from his belt. "Do I _look_ like the drug type?"

"Admittedly, yes," She paused briefly. "But not like that."

"I wasn't a hippie," he answered truthfully, "But I did smoke on occasion." He paused, allowing a quick memory of the past. Justifying himself, "It was the seventies--Who didn't?"

"I didn't," she countered, popping into Apparation.

Sirius, feeling he received an incomplete response, followed.

"What do you mean you didn't smoke?" Sirius followed up on Remus' doorstep.

"Exactly what I said, I didn't smoke," she said, welcoming herself into Remus' home. "Remus?"

Sirius followed behind her, a fountain of repeated questions spewing from his mouth. "What do you _mean_ you didn't smoke?"

In reply, Vala addressed Remus. "Ah, Remus. Did you smoke weed at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," he answered, looking up from a book. At first, he attempted to hide the relief of Fae's message; he tried to hide the joy that was leaping within him. A soft smile graced his lips, his eyes tainted with a faint light. "How are you?"

Sirius pointed around Vala at him. "We smoked in the Shrieking Shack, didn't we?"

"Sirius!" Vala shrieked, swinging on him.

"Well, we didn't just go there on full moons," Remus shrugged.

"Remus!" she twisted, turning on him.

The glow of Remus' smile fell on Vala. All three fell silent, glancing around at each other. It'd been a long time since the three of them had been together. When they had been younger, adventurous and naïve, they had left Peter at bars, Lily and James at home and gone off together regularly. When all other plans had failed, the three of them would find themselves together again--causing mischief for Muggles or harassing Wizards. They took flights nightly; they camped out at Remus' every night. They enjoyed a few drinks every couple Fridays… They fit together well. Sirius and Remus were friends; two bachelors with a younger sister. They cared and took after her. She tucked them in when they had been drinking too much or down with the flu. Over time, Remus had become Vala's sole brother and Sirius her most battled enemy. Eventually it was easier for Vala to fall in love with an enemy--someone she accounted herself greater or equal to.

But now all of that didn't matter. It didn't matter what they had felt or what they had done or seen. They were together again. It was just the three of them again. Memories and connections of the past drew them together again. Nothing else needed to be said, and the three of them joined on Remus' couch, hugging and laughing and crying, all at once.


	49. Black Friday Rule

Black Friday Rule

__

I want to believe in myself once again

So I dream of a man whose hopes never end

To kiss with a girl who's as lovely as you

I'd give ya my heart, if you gave me the truth

And for every tear that is lost from an eye

I'd dig me a well where no man could destroy

The breeze that followed the night was a cool one, chilling Vala and magnifying the stars. She sat alone outside Remus' humble home on the damp grass. The dew soaked the bottom of her robes, freezing and unpleasant, but unfelt. Her head tilted gently back, she gazed at the stars. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her mind was lost in a thought. Her life had been so simple before… Step through the day in a haze, unfeeling and untouched. Dressed up in flattering gowns and gorgeous jewelry… Taking each night in Saxon's bed, beside him, below him… stolen and kept in a shiny box. Each day for twelve years was the same--a never ending cycle. Saxon Malfoy was her alpha and omega.

That was different now. Now she was away from Saxon; she was back at home. She wasn't a Malfoy anymore; she was her own person again… Only it was different. She had married young; she had never really lived a life before now. Now she wasn't so sure she knew how to live. And what about Saxon? How will he carry on from this point? She had no doubt that he would learn to live a life without her, perhaps collect a new trophy wife--someone to bow and keep his every wish. But was it really that easy? Was it really that easy to forget the past twelve years and live your life anew? Could anyone really make that transition, that harsh of a change?

"Are you all right?"

Vala followed the voice and found Remus setting down off to her right.

"I brought this out for you," he said, handing her a cup of freshly brewed tea and draping a cloak across her shoulders.

"Thanks," she smiled softly, inhaling the sweet scent of the tea. She never liked the taste of tea much, but she had always found comfort in its calming fragrance.

Remus leaned back on one palm, bringing a knee up and turning his eyes to the sky. "What's on your mind?"

Vala sighed into her tea. "I know I'm doing the right thing, Remus," she began, looking at him. "But why do I feel so horrible?"

He nodded, stealing a moment for thought. "A lot's happened to you in only a few days time and that takes a lot of adjusting to… What exactly are you worried about?"

She moved the placement of her feet, holding her tea in loose hands between her knees. "I hate to say it," she admitted, avoiding Remus' gaze. "But I worry about Saxon…" She paused ruefully, her lips pursed and her eyes unfocused. "And my life," she added, tilting her head to address Remus. "And his and even Sirius'. I'm doing what's right--what's in my heart…" She sighed, her eyes dropping to the cup of tea. "But wasn't there a better way?" Staring hopelessly into her tea, her eyes eluded to bitter tears.

She found his eyes again, if only for a short moment. "Couldn't I have been more graceful? Less hurtful? Did I have to threaten my husband, nearly kill him--just to emphasize a point?" She looked down again, breaking the wolf's intense stare. "I love Sirius, Remus… I love him so much--More than I ever thought possible. And I know, _I know_ Saxon was a horrible husband. I know he made me do things I never wanted to do, and see things I never wanted to see, feel things I never wanted to feel… I know that, Remus, I know that with every fiber of my being now…. But did he deserve that?" Her eyes drifted to his, severe curiosity ripping at her spine. "And if he did, was I the one to deliver him to it? Am I somehow justified by the cruelty of our marriage?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Vala's questions. "It's… hard to say, and I don't believe either of us would ever be able to answer for it." Concentrating on fixing his position, he continued, "What you did was not right. You know that… But you know, Vala, I also believe what you did may have been necessary. Saxon is a controlling and powerful individual--As a husband, I can only imagine what he expected of you. And a divorce? That's not something he would have taken casually. As for your departure… He and his father put a bounty on your head--dead or alive. Pick your poison, Vala, but I firmly believe that you wouldn't be here talking to me right now if you hadn't done what you did."

Vala stared at Remus… her brother, her uncle, her friend. All the useless titles she tried to place on him were useless, a waste of her thoughts and energy. Remus was her guardian--in every sense of the word. She loved him and she needed him, and everything he had just said soaked into her skin and filled her veins. She trusted and believed every word he had to say. She sniffled, and later would claim it was the chill. She set her tea down on her left, and reached out for Remus, hugging him around the neck and kissing his cheek.

. . . . . . . .

Somewhere in downtown Hogsmeade, a man stumbled down the cobblestones. His collar and cloaks were disheveled, the knees of his pants torn. His hands were scraped from countless falls, and his feet dragged in a dull loss for existence. He had a home… somewhere, sometime in his life. He had a beautiful girl to curl up with at the end of the day, to kiss and lie to… But all of that seemed so far away. This charming, wonderful, exciting existence seemed so lost to him. He wanted to find it, but he knew his search was in vain.

His head ached and he knew the effects of his drink should have long since worn off. His head fell back on his neck and he saw the moon, he blinked his eyes in pain, but still stared. It seemed different somehow, brighter and more frightening. It was invading his mind with torn and twisted thoughts, illustrations of pain and anxiety.

Dropping his tormented mind to the stones, he thought, _I'd rather die than ever see that moon again._

. . . . . . . . .

"It's getting colder, let's get you inside."

Vala smiled softly, reflecting sweetly on the care and guidance Remus had always offered. She thought lightly on the night he and Sirius had first found her; A teenager curled up in the rubbled remains of her home. Even now, as she sat before him as a full-grown woman, a broken marriage and three miscarriages behind her. Even now, he saw the scared little girl within.

Remus was first to his feet, and she allowed him to help her. Delicately, but firmly, she took his hand and rose to stand steadily before him. Words of appreciation fell softly from her lips and both of their eyes dropped in a light embarrassment. A smile touching their lips, they clasped arms and made their way inside.

Once inside, they spotted Sirius--curled and sleeping on the couch. Remus released Vala, patting her shoulder in an assuring manner. _Take care of him_, he seemed to say_. You know what to do._ And she did...

Choices are made cautiously and abruptly. Vala had her days of abruptness, leaping to a solution and following it out almost carelessly. She also had her days of cautiousness. She had married Saxon cautiously, she had left him cautiously… She had trusted Sirius and Remus cautiously. Those days of cautiousness, those bitter realizations and sad solutions were over. Vala was sick of her slow, timid plans falling apart. She wanted to live and to fall and to die as the passionate, forward and enjoyable person she had always been.

Tonight was perfect for such a transition, such a drastic change in her life. She was ready to get up and let the past go. And maybe eventually she could talk to Saxon again. Maybe they would understand each other then, maybe he will have learned by then. She doubted it, but maybe.

That's when she let her heart guide her. As Remus left for his room, Vala found herself crouched by Sirius' side, gently guiding the stray hairs from his face. She was careful not to wake him, but still found herself gazing softly into his deep, brown eyes. Still, softer than before, she continued in her affectionate task. He shifted his face under her hand, kissing her palm and fingers. Her posture slackened, and she set her chin on her arm near the edge of the battered couch. Closing her eyes, the softest of sighs escaped her.

The urges that lived and breathed within the two of them was more apparent than ever. The essence of the other's presence forever draining their willpower. They had fought and they had stood apart, pushing the other's touch away. Neither could stand it much longer.

It was only right that Vala should make the first advancement, that she should first hold Sirius… But she couldn't. She had lost her nerve. She lifted her eyelids, the stinging in her eyes more prominent than before. How did one move on? How did one take the first step?

Sirius touched her face, gracing her cheek. He lifted his shaggy head, brought his lips closer to hers. She bent her neck forward, her nose pointing to his lips, denying his kiss. Both could feel the other's breath. "I love you," he whispered, but it sounded more like a sigh. His eyes sparkled now that he knew what to say, now that he truly knew what it meant to love someone.

Looking into those eyes, she was lost forever… And she never lost sight of them as she rose her lips to his and kissed him their very first kiss.

. . . . . . . . .

One of two entwined bodies, sheets twisted and holding her to her lover, softly awoke. Breathing in the scent of her lover's hair, she exhaled a breath of pleasure and relaxation. For once, if not momentarily, the world was set right. Everything that could go immediately wrong had disappeared, and all that existed were small worries and the consciousness of another's touch.

"I hope this moment never ends," Fae whispered into Grant's sandy hair, holding him closer and tighter than before.


End file.
